The  American  Indian 

As  a  Product  of  Environment 

With  Special  Reference  to  the  Pueblos 


By  A.  J.  Fynn,  Ph.  D. 

Principal  of  Longfellow  School,  and  Instructor  in  Ethnology  in 
Saturday  Classes,  Denver  University 


With  Illustrations 


BOSTON 
Little,     Brown,    and    Company 

1907 


Copyright  1907,  by  A.  J.  Fynn 

All  Rights  Reserved 
Published  October,  1907 


Printed    by    COLONIAL    PRESS: 
C.  H.  Simonds  C&  Co.,  Boston,  U.  S.  At 


Dedicated  to  My  Wife 


The  American  Indian 
As  a  Product  of  Environment 


PREFACE 

THE  fundamental  thoughts  in  this  volume 
Were  offered  some  time  ago  as  a  thesis 
fpr  a  degree  from  the  University  of  Colo 
rado.   Changed  as  to  arran$eiment  of  subject  matter 
and  increased  to  several  time* -it*  original  length,  the 
]rial  is  ijiow  presented  in  /book  form,  with  the  hope 
that  it  mayjbe  of  some  serv/ce  ir*  helping  to  keep  alive 
•an  interest  jin  that  race  wttich  b  so  rapidly  losing  its 

• :  ity. 

Written  (during  short/ and  widely  separated  inter 
vals  of  tinfe,  covering  pore  than  a  haUrgoztn  years 
of  the  bus^-  life  of  a  schoolmaster,  it  -uprising 

:  worlj;  shows  defects  natura  ;nir  from  the 

rupti<f»ns.   Thoughts  begotten  artkj  expressed  un- 
4er  such   iisad vantages  are  likely  to  /lack  continuity 
omp|,eteness. 

the  j work  th^re  is  no  attempt  jt  profundity  or 

istivjeness.  /f here  is  only  an  effort  to  set  forth 

i  (the  mo/'e  noticeable  characf  eristics  of  primi- 

H-espec  ally  primitive  life  ir  the  Southwest — 

^o  eny'ronment.   Many  int?  cresting  phases  of 

>bgy  bearing  on  the/  main  subject  are 

iipon,  others  enti^ly  omitted.    Since 

cr  rather  than  the  student  of  anthro- 

jeen  kept  in  mind  v.uring  the  prepafiK 


PREFACE 

THE  fundamental  thoughts  in  this  volume 
were  offered  some  time  ago  as  a  thesis 
for  a  degree  from  the  University  of  Colo 
rado.  Changed  as  to  arrangement  of  subject  matter 
and  increased  to  several  times  its  original  length,  the 
material  is  now  presented  in  book  form,  with  the  hope 
that  it  may  be  of  some  service  in  helping  to  keep  alive 
an  interest  in  that  race  which  is  so  rapidly  losing  its 
identity. 

Written  during  short  and  widely  separated  inter 
vals  of  time,  covering  more  than  a  half-dozen  years 
of  the  busy  life  of  a  schoolmaster,  it  is  not  surprising 
if  the  work  shows  defects  naturally  resulting  from  the 
interruptions.  Thoughts  begotten  and  expressed  un 
der  such  disadvantages  are  likely  to  lack  continuity 
and  completeness. 

In  the  work  there  is  no  attempt  at  profundity  or 
exhaustiveness.  There  is  only  an  effort  to  set  forth 
a  few  of  the  more  noticeable  characteristics  of  primi 
tive  life — especially  primitive  life  in  the  Southwest — 
relating  to  environment.  Many  interesting  phases  of 
Pueblo  ethnology  bearing  on  the  main  subject  are 
merely  touched  upon,  others  entirely  omitted.  Since 
the  general  reader  rather  than  the  student  of  anthro 
pology  has  been  kept  in  mind  during  the  prepara- 


tion  of  the  volume,  aboriginal  terms  of  a  local  or 
technical  character  have  been  purposely  avoided  as 
far  as  possible. 

Fortune  has  given  the  writer  the  privilege  of  vis 
iting  the  Southwest  several  times  for  the  purpose  of 
seeing  the  land  and  its  people,  and  collecting  data 
at  first  hand;  but  he  is  pleased  to  acknowledge  the 
helpfulness  derived  from  that  eminent  group  of 
authors  who  have  written  so  well  concerning  this 
interesting  Pueblo  branch  of  the  aboriginal  race. 
His  indebtedness  to  them  is  manifested  in  the  various 
quotations  and  foot-notes  of  the  book.  Should  there 
be  any  one  to  whom  acknowledgment  is  due  but 
who  has  been  overlooked,  an  apology  is  here  offered 
in  advance. 

The  manuscript  has  been  read  by  Dr.  Francis 
Kelsey  of  Michigan  University,  the  honored  sec 
retary  of  the  Archaeological  Institute  of  America. 

A.    J.    FYNN. 
DENVER,  COLORADO,  June,  1907. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  pAQm 

I     PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN  ...  i 

II     CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES  OF  THE  WESTERN 

CONTINENT  IN  GENERAL  .  .  .  19 

III  PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES    .  .  .  .  53 

IV  Y FOOD  AND  CLOTHING  .           .  .  .  .  87 
V  / GOVERNMENT  AND  SOCIAL  LIFE  .  .  .  107 

VI  EDUCATION  .  .  .  .  ,  .  I2g 

VII  V/INDUSTRIES,  ARTS,  AND  SCIENCES  .  .  .  153 

VIII  RELIGION  .  .  .  .  .  .  170 

IX  DANCES  AND  FESTIVALS  .  .  .  .  203 

X  CONCLUSION  .  .  .  .  .  .  234 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

A  TYPICAL  SCENE  IN  THE  SOUTHWEST         .          .        Frontispiece 

RUINS  OF   CLIFF  HOUSE,  CLIFF   HOUSE  FACIKG  PAGE 

CANON,  COLORADO         .          .          .          .  54 

ENTRANCES  TO   CAVATE    DWELLINGS, 

PAJARITO  PARK,  NEW  MEXICO  .          .  76 

ONE  OF  TAOS  DWELLINGS,  NEW  MEXICO  ...  96 

EVOLUTION  OF  PUEBLO  FORMS  OF    POT 
TERY  FROM  INDIGENOUS  GOURDS         .          .  158 

NAVAHO  BLANKET  WEAVING — PUSHING 

DOWN  THE  BATTEN        .          .          .          .  172 

ANTELOPE    ALTAR  IN  SERPENT  CERE 
MONIAL        ......  200 

SNAKE  MEN  HANDLING  SERPENTS  AT  OR- 

AIBI  CEREMONIAL  .          .          224 


The  American   Indian 

As  a  Product  of  Environment 
CHAPTER    I 

PLANTS,    ANIMALS,    AND    MAN 

A'  L  life  is  radically  affected  by  environment. 
The  vegetable  kingdom  exemplifies  this  in 
its  geographical  distribution  of  plants.  The 
differences  in  the  flora  of  the  several  zones  accord 
with  the  contrast  in  surroundings.  Only  simple 
plants,  such  as  mosses  and  lichens,  grow  on  the 
boundless  plains  of  the  far  north;  while  endless  va 
rieties  of  mighty  forests  of  palms,  palmettos,  rose 
woods,  and  mahoganies,  with  trunks  enshrouded  in 
gigantic  ferns  and  branches  interlaced  with  climbing 
vines,  flourish  at  the  equatorial  south.  Tender  trees 
thrive  in  pleasant  valleys  and  under  mild  skies,  but 
only  the  hardy  ones  are  able  to  withstand  the  vio 
lent  blasts  of  the  mountains  or  the  higher  latitudes. 
Species  of  vegetation  gradually  borne  by  transplant 
ation  from  the  equator  toward  the  poles,  or  to  more 
elevated  regions,  become  stunted,  changed  in  color, 
altered  in  composition,  modified  in  general  structure, 
and  finally  reach  the  boundary  beyond  which  exist 
ence  is  impossible. 

I 


2,.,  ......  THE .  AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Birches  or  willows  sometimes  are  found  growing 
in  uncongenial  northern  regions,  but  they  appear 
only  as  degenerates.  Their  roots  cannot  reach  very 
far  down  into  the  frozen  soil,  and  the  inclemency  of 
the  weather  prohibits  them  from  thriving.  As  a  result, 
instead  of  expanding  into  large,  beautiful,  and  sym 
metrical  trees,  as  these  species  do  in  the  temperate 
zone,  they  assume  the  form  and  character  of  mere 
shrubs,  rising  but  a  few  inches  above  the  surface. 

Even  in  the  same  latitude  and  on  the  same  iso 
thermal  line,  peculiarities  of  locality  bring  out  pecul 
iarities  of  organism.  In  common  swamp-lands,  plants 
are  distinguished  for  rapid  growth,  soft  bark,  and 
abundance  of  branches  and  foliage ;  on  the  dry  plains 
and  sandy  deserts,  the  few  varieties  that  manage  to 
exist  are  characterized  by  scantiness  of  true  leaves, 
abundance  of  thorns,  nauseating  or  poisonous  juices, 
and  coverings  of  a  glazed  or  pilose  nature. 

In  passing  from  the  plant  to  its  product,  a  glance 
is  sufficient  to  remind  us  that  kind,  quality,  and  sup 
ply  of  foods  vary  in  accordance  with  latitudes  and 
elevations.  Seeds  and  bulbs  when  carried  from  one 
continent,  or  even  one  country  or  state,  to  another, 
will  not  endure  radical  changes.  The  less  hardy 
perish,  the  others  become  modified  in  shape,  size, 
flavor,  and  nutritive  qualities.  To  transplant,  for 
instance,  the  juicy  products  of  the  moist  Atlantic 
coast  to  the  arid  plains  of  Arizona  and  expect  them 
to  flourish  would  be  folly. 

To  be  sure  many  fruits  and  grains  can  endure 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN  3 

considerable  variation  of  environment,  but  sooner  or 
later  results  of  changes  become  observable.  Take  for 
example  Indian  corn.  It  is  naturally  a  sub-tropical 
grain,  or  more  strictly  a  cultivated  sub-tropical  grass. 
It  thrives  best  in  a  land  of  continuous  heat;  yet  it 
is  capable  of  growing  in  regions  of  country  of  very 
diverse  temperatures.  In  fact  it  may  be  raised  on 
territory  so  ever-varying  as  that  reaching  from 
Chili  to  Canada,  a  distance  of  several  thousand  miles. 
It  matures  conveniently  during  any  period  of  time 
from  three  to  six  months,  according  to  the  length 
of  the  season  of  the  locality  in  which  it  happens  to 
be  growing;  and,  in  lands  of  excessive  heat,  espe 
cially  in  places  where  the  nights  as  well  as  the  days 
are  warm,  it  is  possible  for  it  to  develop  from  seed 
to  ripened  ear  in  the  course  of  ten  weeks.  Under 
very  less  advantageous  conditions,  of  course  a  very 
much  longer  time  is  required.  The  main  fact  is  that 
while  it  is  a  hardy  food-plant,  capable  of  enduring 
many  physiographic  changes,  it  cannot  resist  the  in 
fluences  of  climatic  laws.  When  planted  at  certain 
distances  from  a  given  isothermal  line,  the  stalks 
vary  in  height  from  two  to  twelve  feet,  the  ears 
from  three  to  fifteen  inches;  the  kernels  become 
noticeably  changed  in  size,  shape,  and  color,  and 
manifest  striking  differences  in  nutritive  value. 

Some  foods  have  gained  world-wide  celebrity  for 
qualities  traceable  to  local  characteristics  of  soil  and 
climate.  The  cereals  of  the  upper  Mississippi  Valley 
are  noted  for  hardiness  as  well  as  plenteousness. 


4  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Grapes  and  oranges  of  California  are  justly  cele 
brated  throughout  the  western  continent.  Even  in 
the  markets  of  the  Old  World,  the  melons  and  the 
apples  of  Colorado  are  favored  on  account  of  their 
saccharine  properties,  produced  as  they  are  in  the 
continuous  sunshine  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  plateau. 
From  remotest  antiquity,  the  dry  warm  climate  of 
Persia  and  Arabia  has  made  those  regions  of  the 
world  famous  for  exquisite  perfumes.  In  a  word  the 
effects  of  soil,  light,  moisture,  and  temperature  mani 
fest  themselves  on  plant  life  wherever  it  is  found. 

In  the  animal  kingdom  this  dependence  on  cli 
matic  conditions  is  equally  noticeable.  Redistribute 
in  a  hit-or-miss  fashion  the  fauna  of  the  earth,  and 
a  large  percentage  must  die  or  undergo  radical  modi 
fications  to  meet  the  various  changes. 

Homogeneous  types  of  brute  creation  exist  on 
latitudinal,  not  longitudinal  circles.  The  reindeer, 
polar  bear,  and  arctic  fox  flourish  in  the  zone  of 
eternal  snows,  which  is  also  the  home  of  the  large 
water  animals,  such  as  whale,  walrus,  and  seal. 
Flying  about  in  the  icy  air  as  fit  companions  to 
these,  are  numerous  ptarmigans  and  wild  ducks. 

Farther  south,  on  other  isothermal  lines,  the  bison 
of  the  New  World  and  the  wild  ox,  buffalo,  and  au 
rochs  of  the  Old,  animals  closely  related  by  nature 
and  adapted  to  a  moderate  climate,  have  lived  for  ages. 
Here  flourishes  also  the  great  group  of  animals  that 
become  easily  domesticated,  and  have  been  the  com 
panions  and  helpers  of  man  since  the  morning  of  time. 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN  5 

The  large  and  lazy  pachyderms  thrive  under  skies 
well  suited  to  them  nearer  the  equator.  On  a  rather 
wide  belt  of  land  and  sea,  extending  from  Upper 
Guinea  to  the  Philippines,  may  be  found  the  fiercest 
and  most  repulsive  beasts  of  prey,  the  most  ven 
omous  serpents,  and  the  most  gaudy  and  attractive 
birds.  In  the  thick  forests  of  Hindustan  and  cen 
tral  Africa, 

"  The  elephant  browses, 
Undaunted  and  calm." 

/  In  the  swamps  of  the  valley  of  the  Brahmaputra, 
the  huge  rhinoceros  is  found,  wallowing  in  the 
mud  and  satiating  his  appetite  on  the  rank  vege 
tation  abounding  in  that  interesting  region.  On  the 
banks  of  the  Nile  or  the  Niger,  the  clumsy  hippo 
potamus  finds  a  congenial  abiding-place.  In  other 
large  sluggish  rivers  of  the  same  zone,  huge  croco 
diles  live,  sleep,  and  fight  for  food  with  kindred 
brutes.  From  the  dense  jungles  of  this  equatorial 
belt,  man-eating  tigers  and  lions  steal  down  upon 
the  poorly  protected  natives  and  annually  carry  away 
their  thousands  of  victims.  A  still  greater  enemy, 
because  far  more  destructive  to  human  life,  is  the 
deadly  cobra  de  capello,  perhaps  the  most  venomous 
reptile  of  earth.  Along  the  coast  and  among  the 
islands  of  these  seas  of  southern  Asia,  live  the 
beautiful  birds  of  paradise. 

Permanent  modifications  of  territory,  even  within 
very  limited  areas,  have  destroyed,  driven  away,  or 
radically  changed  the  animals  within  such  bounda- 


6  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ries.  The  musk  ox  and  caribou  once  roamed  through 
the  forests  of  Kentucky,  but  an  alteration  of  climate 
drove  them  northward.  The  ancient  mammoth,  rov 
ing  through  the  Arctic  regions  and  protected  by 
coarse  woolly  covering,  differed  very  materially  from 
his  progeny,  coming  down  to  us  in  hairless  tegument 
and  browsing  to-day  on  the  twigs  of  a  tropical  forest. 
The  whale  of  the  frigid  zone  has  been  forced  to 
.develop  thick  layers  of  blubber  to  fit  him  for 
enduring  the  icy  waters  of  that  region. 

The  habitat  of  animals  is  also  largely  determined 
by  the  character  and  quantity  of  the  food  supply. 
The  grassy  plains  of  the  two  worlds  attract  and 
hold  within  their  boundaries  millions  of  ruminants. 
The  polar  bear  lives  on  the  ice,  scores  of  miles  out 
from  land,  where  he  is  able  to  catch  seals  and  fish. 
Various  winged  animals  lay  eggs  on  plants,  the 
tender  leaves  of  which  become  food  for  the  larvae 
when  hatched. 

The  brute  creation  is  noticeably  checked"  in  its 
land  migrations  by  three  great  barriers, —  moun 
tains,  deserts,  and  seas.  Before  man  took  a  hand 
in  the  distribution  of  animals,  there  were  many 
regions  of  earth  well  suited  for  species,  which,  by 
chance,  the  forces  of  nature  had  debarred.  Amer 
ica,  prior  to  the  arrival  of  the  white  man,  was  de 
ficient  in  its  variety  of  animal  life.  Flocks  and 
herds,  which  have  since  been  imported  from  the 
Old  World  and  have  found  the  climate  and  soil 
congenial,  have  added  millions  to  the  wealth  of 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN          7 

the  country.  Australia,  shut  off  from  the  rest  of 
the  continents  by  the  sea,  possesses  a  class  of  wild 
beasts  peculiarly  her  own.  They  are  of  an  ancient 
and  inferior  kind. 

Shaler  1  tells  us  that  many  marine  animals  are 
strictly  limited  in  locality  by  the  temperature  of 
the  water,  and  that  a  variation  of  only  a  few  de 
grees  will  often  drive  out  or  destroy  the  prevailing 
fish.  The  preponderance  of  sex  in  tadpoles  is  changed 
by  a  change  of  food.2  Weismann  3  asserts  that  dogs 
from  Europe  become  hairless  under  the  influence  of 
the  heat  of  India;  and  he  proves  by  experiment 
that  two  forms  of  one  and  the  same  species  of 
butterfly  are  produced  by  difference  of  degrees  of 
warmth  during  the  pupal  stage. 

In  fact  the  brute  creation,  while  possessing  some 
advantages  over  the  vegetable,  especially  in  the 
matter  of  locomotion,  still  finds  itself  at  every 
turn  slavishly  dependent  upon  the  decrees  of 
nature.  Sun,  air,  land,  and  sea  are  potent  mas 
ters,  stimulating,  limiting,  or  prohibiting  animal 
life  everywhere. 

In  turning  to  man,  there  is  no  intention  of  set 
ting   up   geographical    environment    as    the    "  be-all 
and  end-all,"  in  shaping  human  affairs.    Race  tend 
encies,    individual    predispositions,    self-activities, — 
all  these  and  other  attributes  have  their  influence. 


1  Nature  and  Man  in  America,  p.  19. 

2  Pedagogical  Seminar,  January,  1898. 

8  Effect  of  External  Influence  on  Development. 


8  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

It  might  be  interesting  to  the  psychologist  or  an 
thropologist  to  attempt  to  trace  even  such  back  to 
their  origin  to  ascertain  if  they  too  may  not  be 
strictly  the  results  of  the  influence  of  external  con 
ditions;  but  the  subject  at  hand  requires  no  such 
examination,  and  hence  the  fighting-ground  of  a 
much  controverted  question  is  cheerfully  avoided. 
Tennyson  makes  Ulysses  say: — 

"  I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I  have  met," 

and  the  line  is  susceptible  of  a  very  broad  inter 
pretation.  Environment  reaches  to  the  very  heart 
of  the  life  experiences  of  both  the  individual  and 
the  race.  Latitude,  soil,  oceans,  plains,  forests,  riv 
ers,  heat,  humidity,  and  a  score  of  other  physio- 
graphical  influences,  general  and  local,  are  ever 
present  to  modify  human  pursuits,  progress,  and 
destiny.  "  Man,"  says  Bryce,  "  must  in  every  stage 
be  for  many  purposes  dependent  upon  the  circum 
stances  of  his  physical  environment."  1  Draper 
writes :  "  To  this  doctrine  of  the  control  of 
physical  agencies  over  organic  forms  I  acknowl 
edge  no  exception,  not  even  in  the  case  of  man. 
The  varied  aspects  he  presents  in  different  countries 
are  the  necessary  consequences  of  those  influences."2 
Buckle  thinks,  "  that  of  the  two  primary  causes  of 
civilization,  the  fertility  of  the  soil  is  the  one  which 
in  the  ancient  world  exercised  the  most  influence. 


1  American  Commonwealth,  vol.  ii,  p.  450. 

2  The  Intellectual  Development  of  Europe,  vol.  i,  p.  10. 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN  9 

But  in  European  civilization,  the  other  great  cause, 
that  is  to  say,  climate,  has  been  the  most  powerful."1 
Guyot  says :  "  We  may,  then,  expect  to  see  the  great 
facts  of  the  life  of  the  nations  connect  themselves 
essentially  with  these  differences  of  soil  and  climate, 
with  these  contrasts  that  nature  herself  presents  in 
the  interior  of  the  continents,  and  whose  influence 
on  the  social  development  of  man,  although  vari 
able  according  to  the  times,  is  no  less  evident  in  all 
the  periods  of  his  history."  2  Among  many  other 
writers  well  worthy  of  notice  in  passing  are  Montes 
quieu,3  Bluntschli,4  Foster,5  Comte,6  and  Spencer,7 
holding  also  that  the  quality  of  mind  and  intensity 
of  passions  are  strongly  influenced  by  climate. 

In  the  colder  countries  people  are  vigorous,  quick 
of  motion,  inclined  to  bold  enterprises,  tainted  with 
fewer  vices,  frank  and  sincere  in  speech,  less  fickle, 
not  readily  moved  by  passionate  appeal,  less  suscepti 
ble  to  music,  calm  in  reasoning,  and  on  the  whole 
compelled  to  use  much  forethought,  energy,  and 
skill. 

In  warmer  climates  there  is  less  inclination  to 
carry  out  great  enterprises.  The  inhabitants  are  dis 
posed  to  be  like  old  men  —  timid  and  conservative. 


1  History  of  Civilization  in  England,  vol.  i,  pp.  36,  37. 

2  The  Earth  and  Man,  p.  259. 

8  Spirit  of  Laws,  vol.  i,  bk.  xiv. 

4  Theory  of  the  State,  bk.  iii,  chap,  i-iii. 

6  The  Mississippi  Valley,  chap.  xi. 

'  Positive  Philosophy,  vol.  ii,  bk.  vi,  chap,  vi-xil 

T  Principles  of  Sociology,  vol.  i,  pt.  i,  chap,  ii,  iii. 


io  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Their  imaginations  are  easily  stirred,  their  passions 
quickly  aroused.  A  life  of  ease  is  preferred  to  one 
of  care  and  activity.  Feeling  runs  riot  over  reason. 
There  is  little  independence  of  thought.  Idleness 
is  the  soul  of  happiness;  hence  the  people  of  hotter 
climates  cling  to  old  customs,  old  laws,  old  beliefs, 
in  preference  to  making  original  investigations  and 
laying  out  plans  for  new  and  better  things.  They 
are  disposed  to  endure  despotism  rather  than  to  go  to 
the  trouble  of  arousing  themselves  to  throw  it  off. 
Their  philosophy  is  dreamy  and  mystic.  They  are 
content  to  be  simply  comfortable,  and  are  easily 
imposed  upon,  outwitted,  and  outclassed,  by  more 
vigorous  and  more  keenly  thinking  people.  "  Is  it 
not  a  fact,"  says  Wallace,  "  that  in  all  ages  and  in 
every  quarter  of  the  globe  the  inhabitants  of  tem 
perate  have  been  superior  to  those  of  hotter  coun 
tries?  All  the  great  invasions  and  displacements  of 
races  have  been  from  north  to  south  rather  than 
the  reverse."  l 

It  is  also  worthy  of  note  that  in  both  the  eastern 
hemisphere  and  the  western  the  more  advanced  grades 
of  culture  first  appeared  in  or  near  the  torrid  zone. 
On  the  banks  of  the  Euphrates  and  the  Nile, 
a  notable  civilization  runs  back,  popularly  speak 
ing,  into  the  morning  of  the  world.  Arts  and  sci 
ences  were  flourishing  in  those  lands  when  the  rude 
tribes  of  the  north  with  their  stone  weapons  were 
engaged  in  hand-to-hand  conflicts  with  the  wild 

1  Natural  Selection  and  Tropical  Nature,  chap,  viii,  p.  177. 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN         n 

beasts,  that,  when  overpowered,  supplied  them  with 
flesh  for  food,  and  skins  for  clothing  and  shelter. 

In  the  new  hemisphere  the  same  conditions  pre 
vailed.  It  was  the  strip  of  land  between  the  Tropic 
of  Cancer  and  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn  that  con 
tained  the  most  advanced  aborigines  at  the  time  of 
the  discovery  of  America  by  Columbus.  Here  are 
Mexico,  Yucatan,  and  Peru;  and  here  lived  the 
Aztecs,  Mayas,  and  Incas  respectively,  the  most  cul 
tured  of  all  the  primitive  tribes  of  this  continent. 
It  seems,  then,  that  peoples  beneath  the  equatorial 
sun  are  inclined  to  ripen  first,  especially  when  living 
in  lands  where  the  environments  demand  a  certain 
amount  of  exertion  and  ingenuity  in  order  to  main 
tain  a  livelihood;  but  yet  where  a  living  may  be 
obtained  with  only  moderate  exertion. 

It  has  also  been  observed  that  the  peoples  that 
first  attained  a  marked  degree  of  culture,  in  both 
the  Old  World  and  the  New,  were  those  that  lived 
not  only  in  warm  but  also  in  dry  climates.  A  very 
damp  atmosphere,  especially  when  accompanied  with 
excessive  heat,  enervates.  Invalids  passing  from  a 
country  of  great  humidity  to  one  of  extreme  dry- 
ness  become  at  once  noticeably  invigorated.  So  it 
is  with  tribes  and  nations.  There  has  been  a  tend 
ency  on  the  part  of  those  living  on  semi-clesert 
lands  to  develop  more  rapidly  than  their  neighbors 
living  on  those  more  moist. 

When  men  pass  into  a  different  climate  and  re 
main  permanently,  they  change  in  character.  The 


12  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

hardy  barbarians  that  came   down   from  northern 
Europe  and  settled  on  the  coast  of  Africa  lost  the 
sturdiness   which   had   characterized   them   in   their 
early  homes.    The  Hindus  in  very  remote  times  left 
their  native  land,  probably  somewhere  near  central 
Asia,  and  moved  southward  into  the  isolated  region 
beyond  the  Indus;  and  the  little  accomplished  by 
these  people  in  comparison  with  what  has  been  done 
by  the  Greeks,  Romans,  Celts,  and  Teutons,  other 
branches   of   the   same   family,   is   very   suggestive. 
"  It  is  a  striking  fact/'  says  Laurie,  "  that  the  fresh 
and  virile  spirit  of  this  vigorous  race  could  not  sus 
tain   itself   on   the   plains   of    India.     The   Hindus 
succumbed  to  the  influences  of  nature,  which  were 
too  great  and  overwhelming  to  admit  of  the  free 
growth   of   the  self-conscious   personality,   so  con 
spicuous   in  their  brethren."  1    Instead  of  keeping 
up  his  energy  and  ambition,  the  new-comer  became 
indolent,  dreamy,  mystic,  unambitious,  and  panthe 
istic.    He  has  no  history  like  that  of  his  kindred 
in  the  West.    His  whole  national  life  has  become 
stagnant,  through  the  prevailing  idea  that  bliss  is 
a  synonym  for  death  of  personality.    To  this  has 
been  added  the  paralyzing  effect  of  an  odious  caste 
system,   originating  evidently  in  the  differences  in 
color   between  the  swarthy   native   and   the   light- 
complexioned  Aryan  conqueror. 

To  what  has  been  stated  regarding  the  Hindus, 
it  may  be  added  that  the  English,  who  to-day  go 

1  Pre-Christian  Education,  p.  166. 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN         13 

to  certain  parts  of  India  to  reside,  are  reported  to 
grow  lazy  and  sensual,  drifting  toward  one  or  the 
other  of  the  two  great  classes,  which  sub-tropical 
or  equatorial  countries  tend  to  produce, —  despots 
and  serfs.1 

Professor  Shaler,2  in  a  magazine  article,  attributes 
New  England  industries  and  New  England  ideas  to 
the  physical  features  of  the  land  on  which  the  Puri 
tans  settled.  Those  pioneers  found  the  soil  thin 
and  covered  with  forests.  After  the  trees  had  been 
removed  and  an  attempt  made  to  cultivate  the  soil, 
it  was  necessary  to  clear  away  the  stones.  The 
returns  for  the  amount  of  labor  expended  were 
small.  As  the  stream  of  migration  began  to  pour 
westward,  it  became  evident  to  the  New  Eng- 
lander  that  in  raising  crops  he  could  not  compete 
with  the  western  farmer,  settled  on  more  fertile 
fields.  He  turned  to  the  rocks  for  wealth,  but  found 
none.  Gold,  silver,  coal,  iron, —  none  of  these  miner 
als  to  any  great  extent  rewarded  his  efforts. 

There  were  opportunities,  however,  in  other  direc 
tions.  There  was  the  sea  swarming  with  fish.  There 

"  In  India  the  children  of  English  parents  must  be  sent 
back  to  Great  Britain  or  they  will  perish.  It  is  said  that  in 
the  history  of  the  civil  service  there  has  not  been  a  single 
family  which  survived  three  generations.  Even  the  first  gen 
eration  loses  the  energy  which  characterizes  the  parental 
stock.  The  whites  nowhere  in  the  tropics  can  undergo  con 
tinuous  physical  toil  exposed  to  the  sun.  They  are  always 
found  subsisting  on  the  labor  of  the  native  races."  Brinton: 
Races  and  Peoples,  p.  279. 

2  North  American  Review,  vol.  clxii,  p.  726. 


14  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

were  excellent  harbors.  So  the  inhabitants  became 
sailors,  fishermen,  traders,  and  lumbermen.  There 
was  also  another  striking  feature  of  the  country. 
Though  the  land  was  not  fertile,  yet  it  contained 
scores  of  fine  rushing  rivers.  Along  these,  great 
manufactories  were  built.  The  variety  of  industries 
that  grew  up  by  the  side  of  these  water-courses 
tended  to  make  the  people  inventive.  Their  occupa 
tions  also  had  a  powerful  influence  in  shaping  their 
political  views;  for  everybody  knows  that  the  manu 
facturing  and  shipping  interests  of  New  England 
have  been  sources  of  hot  controversies  in  American 
politics,  from  the  Philadelphia  Convention  of  1787 
down  to  the  present. 

No  one'  would  question  that  the  adaptability  of 
the  tier  of  southern  states  for  raising  cotton,  and 
the  fitness  of  the  tier  of  northern  states  for  entirely 
different  agricultural  products,  along  with  mining, 
manufacturing,  and  commerce,  helped  greatly  to 
keep  the  two  sections  politically  divided  for  the  first 
seventy  years  of  the  Republic,  and  became  a  prom 
inent  factor  in  hastening  the  Civil  War. 

Other  things  being  equal,  countries  with  extensive 
seacoasts  have  a  tendency  to  develop  first.  The  lands 
about  the  Mediterranean  had  made  rapid  strides 
in  civilization,  while  the  people  of  more  northern 
and  far  interior  regions  were  yet  in  a  state  of  bar 
barism.  Greece,  Italy,  Spain,  and  Portugal,  reaching 
out  into  deep  waters,  invited  commercial  intercourse. 
The  Phoenicians  and  Carthaginians,  stretched  along 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN         15 

the  seashore  as  they  were,  could  be  hardly  anything 
but  sailors.  For  the  same  reason  in  later  times  the 
Vikings,  perhaps  the  most  hardy  of  all,  left  their 
barren  rocks  to  try  their  fortunes  out  on  the  tur 
bulent  northern  ocean.  England  and  Japan,  funda 
mentally  different  in  a  score  of  essentials  such  as 
blood,  language,  and  religion,  each  lies  out  in  an 
ocean  on  an  almost  directly  opposite  side  of  Eura 
sia;  and  this  physical  fact  secures  for  both  similar 
prestige  among  the  nations  of  two  great  continents. 
Guyot  makes  this  sweeping  statement :  "  Call  to 
gether  your  historical  recollections,  and  cast  your 
eyes  upon  the  map  of  the  world,  and  you  will  see 
that  all  the  highly  civilized  peoples  of  the  earth, 
with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  primitive  nations, 
have  lived,  or  still  live,  on  the  margins  of  seas  or 
oceans."  1 

Other  features,  such  as  height  of  mountains, 
courses  of  rivers,  width  of  plains,  coast  indenta 
tions,  and  fertility  of  soil,  have  powerfully  stimu 
lated,  checked,  or  disturbed  the  growth  of  national 
and  tribal  life. 

It  may  be  laid  down  as  a  rule  that,  in  temperate 
regions  especially,  the  first  settlements  are  made 
on  low  fertile  lands.  To  be  sure,  back  in  the  in 
terior  in  unattractive  regions,  weak  and  isolated 
tribal  life  may  exist  contemporaneously  with  that  of 
far  higher  culture  down  on  the  better  soils;  but, 
after  all,  the  law  holds  good  that  great  nationali- 

1  The  Earth  and  Man,  p.  171. 


ID  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ties,  big  cities,  and  complicated  societies  first  appear 
in  fruitful  valleys  and  on  alluvial  plains.  After 
ward,  with  the  advance  of  civilization,  the  enlarge 
ment  of  facilities  for  promoting  industries,  and  the 
increased  means  and  appliances  for  protection  against 
objectionable  climates,  man  is  attracted  to  less  favor 
able  regions.  Mining  interests  for  example  have  led 
him  to  build  towns  on  lonely,  wind-swept,  rock- 
bound  mountain  tops. 

Every  schoolboy  learns  among  the  first  of  his 
geography  and  history  lessons,  that  the  long  sinuous 
coast-line  of  Europe,  with  its  many  outlying  islands 
large  and  small,  has  invited  civilization  since  very 
remote  times,  and  that  the  monotonous,  unindented, 
islandless  shore  of  Africa  has  repelled  it;  that  the 
great  number  of  gulfs  and  bays  for  harbors  on  the 
Atlantic  coast  of  the  United  States  and  the  scarcity 
of  them  on  the  Pacific  have  been  and  always  will 
be  an  important  consideration  in  the  development  of 
industries,  and  the  distribution  of  population  on  the 
two  opposite  coasts  of  our  continent;  that  the  Alle- 
ghany  Mountains  were  of  great  value  in  contribut 
ing  to  the  success  of  the  early  English  colonies, 
keeping  the  settlements  within  certain  limits  until 
they  became  strong  and  united,  and  serving  as  a 
wall  of  protection  against  the  incursions  of  the  hos 
tile  aborigines  of  the  interior;  that  from  the  notable 
encounter  of  Champlain  with  the  Iroquois  to  the 
surrender  of  Burgoyne,  the  country  about  the  head 
waters  of  the  Hudson  was  the  scene  of  many  bloody 


PLANTS,  ANIMALS,  AND  MAN         17 

conflicts,  simply  because  nature  had  fashioned  a 
highway  through  this  region,  bestowing  great  ad 
vantages  upon  those  who  should  possess  it. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  earliest  of  great 
civilizations  should  spring  up  in  southern  Asia  and 
northeastern  Africa,  with  their  soils  rich  and  easy 
to  till,  their  annually  overflowing  rivers,  lands  at 
tractive  for  irrigation,  and  their  several  climatic 
and  other  natural  advantages  for  obtaining  abun 
dance  of  food  with  comparatively  little  labor.  It  is 
no  wonder  that  the  country  about  the  Tigris  and 
Euphrates  has  been  overrun,  conquered,  and  re 
conquered  by  nations  eager  to  possess  such  a  coveted 
prize. 

Again,  what  could  be  more  natural  than  that 
Hellas,  with  a  coast  fringed  with  natural  harbors, 
should  develop  into  a  great  maritime  country,  and 
what  more  likely  than  that  her  people  in  days  long 
before  the  intercommunicating  and  confederating 
agencies  of  steel  and  electricity  should  remain  po 
litically  disunited  on  account  of  rocky  ranges,  cut 
ting  the  land  into  isolated  sections?  In  the  words 
of  Cowper :  - — 

"  Mountains  interposed, 
Make  enemies  of  nations,  who  had  else 
Like  kindred  drops  been  mingled  into  one/'1 

Other  environmental  forces  may  leave  deep  im 
pressions  on  a  people  and  strongly  influence  race 
characteristics.  The  aggressiveness  which  the  people 

1  The  Task,  bk.  ii,  line  17. 

2 


18  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

of  early  Rome  were  obliged  to  maintain  left  a 
marked  effect  on  the  race.  The  little  colony  on 
the  Tiber  was  surrounded  by  hostile  tribes.  A  war 
like  spirit  grew  out  of  these  conditions,  hence  the 
inhabitants  came  to  be  pre-eminently  soldiers. 

A  similar  example  may  be  found  in  the  history 
of  the  small  company  that  settled  on  the  banks  of 
the  Eurotas  in  the  little  state  of  Laconia.  The  set 
tlers  had  to  hold  supremacy  over  a  surrounding 
population  that  far  outnumbered  themselves.  The 
necessity  of  the  case  demanded  that  practically  the 
entire  people  should  be  trained  to  the  use  of  arms. 
Thus  the  state  of  Sparta  grew  into  a  military  school, 
so  to  speak,  destined  to  become  immortalized  on 
account  of  its  rugged,  efficient  soldiery. 

The  ancient  Persians  also  became  a  great  martial 
people,  because,  in  the  words  of  Seeley,  "  Success  in 
defense  against  the  frequent  assaults  of  their  sur 
rounding  enemies  stimulated  them  to  become  a  na 
tion  of  warriors."  1 

These  examples  of  the  influence  of  environment 
offer  many  suggestions,  as  we  turn  to  some  phases 
of  life  connected  with  the  aborigines  of  the  New 
World,  where,  to  use  the  applicable  words  of  Hewett : 
"  Fixed  environmental  conditions  compelled  men  to 
certain  activities,  to  certain  beliefs  and  customs, 
equally  coercive  whether  true  or  false,  good  or  bad."  2 

1  History  of  Education,  p.  36. 

*  American  Anthropologist,  n.  s.  vol.  vii,  p.  3. 


CHAPTER   II 

CONCERNING    THE    ABORIGINES    OF   THE    WESTERN 
CONTINENT    IN    GENERAL 

THE  people  that  were  found  on  the  shores 
of  the  western  world,  when  Europeans 
came  to  explore  and  settle  it,  were  a  race 
offering  to  students  of  science  exceptionally  fresh 
and  interesting  material  for  thought. 

Scattered  as  they  were  over  an  immense  area,  un 
touched  by  civilization,  living  in  every  variety  of 
climate,  the  aborigines  were  granted  unique  oppor 
tunities  for  the  spontaneous  growth  of  their  peculiar 
primitive  institutions.  If  the  study  of  anthropology 
instead  of  the  pursuit  of  wealth  had  been  the  primary 
object  of  many  of  the  early  adventurers,  how  rich 
would  have  been  the  harvest  gleaned  from  this  undis 
turbed  field.  To-day  the  conditions  are  far  less  favor 
able,  for  numberless  treasures  of  priceless  value  to 
the  archaeologist  have  been  lost  forever,  while  apathy 
and  waste  have  done  their  work  far  too  effectually. 

Fortunately  all  is  not  lost.  Of  late  a  spirit  of 
inquiry  has  been  abroad  in  the  land.  Sympathetic, 
truth-seeking,  justice-loving,  and  science-promoting 
men  and  women  of  America  and  other  countries 
have  attempted  to  rescue  from  oblivion  the  story 

19 


20  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 


of  this  changed  and  vanishing  race.  In  the  interes 
of  knowledge,  attempts  have  been  made  to  preserv] 
as  far  as  possible  what  is  left;  and  it  is  indeed  , 
matter  for  congratulation  to  the  student  of  primitiv 
history,  that  there  still  remain  some  fragments  o 
aboriginal  life  which  the  influence  of  the  white 
man  has  not  seriously  molested. 

We  are  to  consider  particularly  one  branch  oi 
these  people.  We  are  to  approach  the  situation  frorr 
the  standpoint  of  environment.  We  shall  often  refer 
to  the  whole  race  for  general  characteristics,  and  to 
special  tribes  for  distinctive  qualities  by  way  of 
comparison  and  illustration.  As  far  as  possible  let 
us  keep  before  us  the  type,  unfettered  and  unaltered, 
as  it  appeared  when  first  seen  by  Europeans,  rather 
than  the  wasted  and  scattered  tribes  of  later  times, 
fundamentally  changed  through  contact  with  civ 
ilization. 

For  a  people  to  become  modified  perceptibly  as  a 
result  of  climatic  conditions,  a  considerable  amount 
of  time  is  required.  Some  questions,  then,  naturally 
present  themselves  at  the  outset.  Has  he,  whom  we 
call  the  Indian,1  been  on  the  continent  long  enough 
to  be  essentially  affected  by  it?  If  he  has  changed, 

1  It  is  unfortunate  that  we  have  no  satisfactory  name  to 
apply  to  the  natives  of  the  New  World.  Writer  after  writer 
has  lamented  it,  but  no  one  has  yet  been  able  to  hit  upon  an 
unobjectionable  term.  "Indian"  is  not  definite.  "American 
Indian"  is  bungling.  "Amerind"  has  merits,  but  seems  ob 
jectionable  to  many  on  account  of  its  etymology.  Other 
proposed  terms  have  met  with  enough  of  opposition  to 
exclude  them  from  current  use. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       21 

what  were  his  characteristics  when  he  first  ap 
peared?  Where  did  he  come  from?  What  time  has 
elapsed  since  the  migration? 

For  centuries  the  white  man  has  been  thrown 
into  contact  with  this  fellow  creature,  has  driven 
him  from  place  to  place,  has  bargained  with  him, 
has  fought  with  him,  has  tried  to  proselyte  him, 
has  attempted  to  educate  him, —  in  fact  has  endeav 
ored  to  acquaint  him  with  all  the  arts,  customs, 
advantages,  and  tricks  of  civilized  life.  For  cen 
turies  the  older  inhabitant  and  the  newer  have  looked 
into  each  other's  faces,  the  one  a  mystery  to  the 
other. 

The  original  home  of  both  is  unknown.  It  may 
be  that  scores  of  centuries  ago  the  two  races  stood 
on  opposite  banks  of  some  stream  in  the  Old  World, 
possibly  on  one  of  the  plateaus  of  prehistoric  Asia. 
Necessity  or  inclination  may  have  caused  the  one 
to  face  the  rising  the  other  the  setting  sun.  Each 
wanders  from  region  to  region,  in  opposite  direc 
tions.  As  generation  succeeds  generation  and  century 
rolls  back  upon  century,  those  who  began  the  journey 
pass  away  and  are  forgotten.  Even  the  causes  of 
the  migrations  cease  to  be  remembered.  At  length 
here  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  world  they  come 
together  face  to  face,  changed  in  form,  feature,  and 
status,  the  one  a  powerful  and  prosperous  people, 
the  other  a  simple  and  uncultivated  race. 

Truly  there  has  been  no  lack  of  interest  nor  want 
of  speculation  regarding  the  part  of  earth  from 


22  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

which  these  aborigines  drifted.1  There  has  been  i  . 
many  a  war  of  words  over  the  question  of  the  place 
of  their  possible  origin,  and  their  relationship  to 
the  people  of  other  lands.  Almost  every  region  of 
the  eastern  hemisphere,  large  or  small,  definite  or 
indefinite,  has  been  claimed  for  their  habitat.  Sacred 
books,  mythology,  language,  government,  industries, 
craniology,  physique,  weapons,  decorative  arts,  and 
social  life  of  the  people  of  the  known  world  have 
been  studied,  and  oftentimes  curiously  lugged  in  as 
evidence,  to  throw  light  upon  the  question  of  the 
place  of  their  origin. 

There  is  a  world-wide  difference  in  the  theories 
presented.  To  the  east,  across  the  Atlantic  by  way 
of  Iceland,  far  away  over  into  Scandinavia,  one 
ethnologist  has  tried  to  trace  back  their  course.  To 
the  west,  from  island  to  island,  upon  the  broad 
Pacific  over  to  far-off  Australia,  another  has  thought 
he  has  found  evidences  of  their  long  ocean  voyage, 
extending  back  through  many  centuries.  Over  the 
ice-bound  regions  of  northwestern  America,  by  way 
of  Bering  Strait  or  the  Aleutian  Archipelago  from 
China  or  Japan,  others  have  argued  that  they  came. 
Some  have  thought  that  they  -were  borne  over  by 
the  equatorial  current  from  western  Africa.  Argu- 

'Brinton:  The  American  Race,  Introductory. 
Fiske:  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  chap.  i. 
Bancroft:  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  chap,  i;  vol.  v,  chap.  i. 
Shaler:  Story  of  Our  Continent,  chap  iv. 
Winsor:  Narrative  and  Critical  History  of  America,  vol.  i, 
chap.  vi. 

Powell:  Shaler's  United  States  of  America,  vol.  i,  chap.  iv. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       23 

ments  have  been  advanced  to  prove  them  Carthagin 
ians,  Greeks,  Egyptians,  Trojans,  Hindus,  Chinese, 
Japanese,  Celts,  Scythians,  and  even  the  lost  tribes  of 
Israel.  Some  think  that  they  are  an  amalgamated 
result  of  many  migrations  from  many  lands,  ex 
tending  back  over  scores  of  centuries,  and  that  they 
have  become  a  distinct  type  of  man  through  the 
influences  of  new  conditions.  The  controversy  is 
still  going  on.  The  problem  may  remain  forever 
unsolved. 

These  disputations,  however,  have  not  been  in  vain. 
Indeed  in  several  ways  much  of  value  has  come  from 
them.  They  have  settled  beyond  question  that  wher 
ever  the  red  man  may  have  originated,  he  has  been 
on  the  soil  of  the  western  hemisphere  for  many, 
many  centuries.  Back  to  the  period  bordering  on 
the  great  Ice  Age,  he  has  been  traced  fairly  well, 
and  it  is  possible  there  yet  will  appear  plenty  of 
geological  testimony  to  prove  his  existence  during 
the  great  Ice  Age  itself.  In  fact  Brinton  already 
assures  us  that  the  Indian  was  here  during  glacial 
times,  and  before  the  lands  of  northern  Asia  or  the 
Islands  of  Polynesia  were  inhabited.1 

Again,  it  seems  well  established  that  the  original 
inhabitants  were  practically  of  one  race.  Shaler,2 
Fiske,3  Bancroft  (H.  H.),4  and  many  other  eminent 


1  Eleventh  Census  Report:  Indians,  p.  43,  et  al. 

2  The  Story  of  Our  Continent,  chap.  iv. 
8  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  chap,  i, 

*  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  chap,  i. 


24  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

authorities  think  so.  The  Eskimo  may  possibly  be  the 
trivial  exception,  but  even  this  is  disputed.  Brinton 
says :  "  The  closest  observers  report  the  physical 
traits  of  the  Eskimos  as  thoroughly  American  and 
not  Asian,  as  has  sometimes  been  alleged."  l  He 
also,  in  connection  with  this  statement,  quotes  Dall 
as  saying  that  there  is  positively  no  racial  distinction 
between  them  and  the  other  American  Indians. 

Some  years  ago  the  mound-builders  were  thought 
to  be  a  distinct  and  superior  people,  but  later  inves 
tigations  seem  to  prove  them  Indian  tribes.  The 
Creeks,  when  discovered  by  Ferdinand  de  Soto  in 
1540,  had  villages  with  embankments  of  earth  about 
them  for  the  purpose  of  defense.  These  embank 
ments  by  comparison  are  found  to  be  similar  in 
size  and  construction  to  those  of  the  Ohio  Valley. 

In  fact  the  opinion  is  now  almost  universal  that 
the  builders  of  the  Ohio  earth-works  were  the  ances 
tors  of  the  Cherokees  and  more  northern  tribes. 
Fiske  says :  "  As  for  the  mounds,  which  are  scat 
tered  in  such  profusion  over  the  country  west  of  the 
Alleghanies,  there  are  some  which  have  been  built 
by  Indians  since  the  arrival  of  the  white  men  in 
America,  and  which  contain  knives  and  trinkets 
of  European  manufacture."  2 

It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  the  American  aborigines 
differ  materially  from  any  people  of  the  Old  World. 
They  have  race  characteristics  and  individual  peculi- 

1The  American  Race,  p.  61. 

2  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  p.  141. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       25 

arities  which  seem  exclusively  their  own.  As  Fiske 
states :  "  The  aboriginal  American,  as  we  know  him, 
with  his  language  and  legends,  his  physical  and 
mental  peculiarities,  his  social  observances  and  cus 
toms,  is  most  emphatically  a  native  and  not  an 
imported  article.  He  belongs  to  the  American  con 
tinent  as  strictly  as  its  opossums  and  armadillos, 
its  maize  and  its  golden-rod,  or  any  members  of 
its  aboriginal  fauna  and  flora  belong  to  it."  1  These 
people  differ  among  themselves  to  be  sure,  but  there 
is  only  that  dissimilarity  which  we  would  naturally 
find  in  climates  varying  from  Alaskan  cold  and 
barrenness  to  Brazilian  heat  and  verdure. 

It  may  be  concluded,  then,  on  eminent  authority, 
that  the  native  home  of  the  American  Indian  is  un 
known;  that  he  has  been  on  the  western  continent 
for  many  centuries,  so  long,  in  fact,  that  to  all 
intents  and  purposes  he  may  be  considered  an  in 
digenous  product;  that  there  was  substantially  but 
one  race  occupying  the  territory  up  to  the  time  of 
the  discovery  of  the  land  by  Columbus. 

It  has  already  been  noticed  that  mountain  ranges 
are  strikingly  important  factors  in  determining  the 
size,  shape,  and  general  character  of  the  habitat  of 
civilized  nations  and  groups  of  nations.  Walls  of 
rock,  standing  out  as  barriers,  have  marked  for 
ages  the  land  limits  of  great  European  powers,  and 
held  in  check  the  ambitions  of  land-grasping  poten 
tates.  Asiatic  races  have  found  desired  safety  and 
1  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  p.  20. 


26  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

isolation  behind  the  massive  mountain  chains  that 
run  through  the  very  heart  of  the  country. 

In  the  New  World,  boundaries  of  tribes,  or  of 
other  social  organizations  of  natives,  were  naturally 
formed  by  mountain  systems.  Communication  be 
tween  extreme  eastern  and  extreme  western  groups 
was  scanty  and  unimportant,  on  account  of  gigantic 
mountain  systems,  running  more  or  less  closely  on 
longitudinal  lines  and  forming  serious  obstructions. 

On  the  other  hand,  intercourse  between  northern 
and  southern  groups  was  obviously  very  extensive. 
Attention  has  been  drawn  by  Brinton,1  Bancroft,2 
and  others  to  the  fact  that  territorial  divisions  near 
the  oceans,  especially  along  the  Pacific,  lay,  as  a  rule, 
in  naturally  mountain-bound  sections  of  very  limited 
width.  Upon  a  narrow  stretch  of  land,  reaching  from 
southern  Alaska  to  the  Gulf  of  California,  a  distance 
of  two  thousand  miles,  crowded  in  between  the 
northern  Pacific  Ocean  and  the  Coast  Range,  fav 
ored  by  a  climate  always  softened  by  ocean  breezes 
from  equatorial  currents,  were  several  tribes  that, 
on  account  of  similarity  of  surroundings  and  easy 
communication,  grew  to  be  wonderfully  alike  in  per 
sonal  appearance  and  culture.  Through  a  string  of 
inland  valleys  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  reaching 
from  the  head  waters  of  the  Columbia  River  down 
through  Mexico,  extending  over  territory  several 
thousand  miles  in  length,  was  the  Uto-Aztecan  stock, 

1  Races  and  Peoples,  lect.  ix. 
3  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  chap.  i. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       27 

embracing  so  noted  members  as  the  Bannocks,  Utes, 
Shoshones,  Mokis,1  Pimas,  Yaquis,  Aztecs,  and  some 
forty  others  of  more  or  less  prominence.  West  and 
south  of  these,  along  the  middle  Pacific  coast,  the 
Nahuas,  a  part  of  this  great  parent  stock,  occupied 
a  fringe  of  land,  extending  from  northern  Mex 
ico  to  the  Bay  of  Panama.  Farther  down,  the  Inca 
natives  were  strung  along  the  narrow  and  sharply 
inclined  western  coast  to  the  extent  of  seventeen  or 
eighteen  hundred  miles.  The  extreme  southern  part 
of  South  America,  consisting  of  a  cold  and  moun 
tainous  region  deeply  cut  into  from  all  directions 
by  arms  of  the  sea,  has  long  been  occupied  by  the 
Fuegians.  There  is  almost  no  level  country,  and  the 
small,  rocky  islands  and  peninsulas  are  so  covered 
with  forests  that  the  wretched  inhabitants  stick,  as 
it  were,  to  the  shore  close  to  the  edge  of  the  water. 
They  spend  the  larger  part  of  their  days  in  canoes 
in  search  of  food,  for  the  major  portion  of  their 
living  comes  from  the  ocean.  On  the  Atlantic  side 
the  Guaranis  have  roamed,  time  out  of  mind,  over 
a  wide  territory  reaching  from  the  Argentine  Re- 

1  It  is  unfortunate  that  there  is  not  a  uniform  method  of 
spelling  the  names  of  American  tribes.  One  finds  the  people 
above  designated  as  "Moki",  "Moqui",  "Hopi",  also  such 
differences  as  "  Esquimau  "  and  "  Eskimo  ".  In  view  of  this 
bothersome  state  of  nomenclature  and  orthography,  the 
spelling  of  aboriginal  names  in  this  book  is  that  sanctioned 
by  eminent  writers,  without  special  reference  to  linguistic 
affinity.  Other  things  being  equal,  preference  is  given  to  the 
orthography  found  in  the  Reports  of  the  Bureau  of  Eth 
nology  and  similar  scientific  productions. 


28  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

public  to  the  mouth  of  the  Amazon.  On  the  northern 
coast  of  South  America  lived  the  Arawaks  and 
Caribs.  They  built  strong  canoes  and  used  a  rude 
sail  in  their  explorations  about  the  big  sea  that 
bears  the  name  of  the  latter.  They  migrated  from 
island  to  island  over  the  Lesser  Antilles,  thence  out 
upon  the  Greater  Antilles,  and  even  up  among  the 
Bahamas,  where  many  of  them  were  living  at  the 
time  of  the  discovery  of  America  by  Columbus,  and 
who  were  the  first  people  of  the  American  race  seen 
by  the  great  navigator.  The  warm  waters  that 
washed  the  shores  of  the  closely  huddled  islands 
of  the  West  Indies  could  not  fail  to  be  a  strong 
attraction  to  the  tribes  along  the  banks  of  the  main 
land;  hence  the  Arawaks  and  Caribs  naturally  came 
to  be  the  aboriginal  explorers,  adventurers,  and  quasi- 
colonists  of  the  eastern  shore  of  the  western  conti 
nent.  To  the  northwest  of  these,  in  the  southeastern 
corner  of  the  United  States,  were  the  tribes  of  the 
Maskoki  stock,  hemmed  in  rather  securely  by  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  Gulf  of  Mexico,  Mississippi  River, 
Ohio  River,  and  the  southern  ranges  of  the  Appa 
lachian  Mountain  system.  Farther  north  the  Algon- 
kins,  a  great  and  powerful  division  of  the  race, 
extended  from  North  Carolina  upward  and  around 
to  the  Hudson  Bay;  and,  with  no  natural  barriers 
to  interfere,  wandered,  about  over  the  northern 
plains  to  the  Rocky  Mountains.  At  the  extreme 
north,  the  widely  dispersed  Polar  people  lived,  nom 
adized,  and  starved,  on  their  inhospitable  ice-fields. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       29 

Inland,  on  the  banks  of  the  Orinoco,  Amazon,  and 
Parana,  with  their  affluents,  over  a  surface  of  coun 
try  covering  millions  of  square  miles,  intercommuni 
cation  was  the  rule,  isolation  the  exception.  Accord 
ing  to  Brinton,1  tribes  have  always  wandered  freely 
over  this  vast  area  and  held  direct  communication  — 
rounds  of  friendly  visits,  as  well  as  deadly  encoun 
ters  —  with  one  another.  On  some  portions  of  this 
great  stretch  of  territory  it  would  seem  that  the 
thick  forests  must  interfere  with  travel,  especially 
the  land  travel;  but  many  parts  would  not  be  seri 
ously  disturbed  in  that  way,  and  none  of  them  would 
be  obstructed  by  barriers  so  formidable  as  those  con 
fronting  the  tribes  farther  west. 

On  the  great  plains  of  North  America  between  the 
Appalachian  Mountains  and  the  Rockies,  facility  of 
communication  among  tribes  existed  in  even  a  more 
marked  degree.  Travel  from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to 
the  Arctic  Ocean  was  unimpeded.  In  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  which  is  the  very  heart  of  this  region,  the 
nature  of  the  country  made  nomadism  irresistible. 
Here  could  be  found,  especially  in  the  western  and 
southwestern  portion  of  it,  great  expanse  "of  > terri 
tory,  comparatively  flat;  unobstructed  by  forests; 
covered  only  with  short  grasses,  weeds,  and  shrubs; 
visited  with  but  little  rain  and  snow;  intersected  by 
water-cut  trenches,  dry  for  the  most  of  the  year,  and 
by  wide  rivers,  generally  shallow  and  easily  forded. 
On  these  unfriendly  plains,  man  was  offered  a  living 

V 

1  The  American  Race,  p.  229,  et  seq. 


30  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

principally  through  the  capturing  of  wild  animals. 
Here,  in  pre-Columbian  times  and  even  later,  before 
the  horse  had  metamorphosed  travel  among  the  tribes 
by  contributing  more  rapid  transit,  numerous  bands 
of  natives  roamed  constantly  and  lawlessly  about, 
stealing  and  murdering  without  discrimination. 

On  this  vast  territory,  earth,  air,  and  sky  combined 
to  foster  a  roving  disposition.  In  a  dry,  pulse-stir 
ring,  and  energizing  atmosphere;  on  stretches  of 
land,  so  little  obstructed  by  natural  barriers;  with  a 
far-extended,  alluring  horizon  always  on  a  level 
with  the  eye;  and  with  no  moist,  fertile  spots  to 
suggest  tillage  and  the  making  of  permanent  homes ; 
one  can  hardly  imagine  a  primitive  population  other 
than  that  of  wild  migratory  bands.  Here  roamed 
the  lean  and  hungry  Kiowas  and  Comanches,  the 
Bedouins  and  Huns  of  the  New  World,  whose  thiev 
ing,  murdering  propensities  made  them  a  constant 
menace  to  all  life  and  property. 

Natural  limitations  are  observable  in  many  less 
extended  territories.  For  instance,  in  the  northwest 
ern  part  of  South  America,  the  valleys,  formed  by 
the  Magdalena  and  Cauca  rivers  and  their  tribu 
taries,  were  densely  populated  with  tribes  hemmed 
in  among  the  three  mountain  ranges  that  traverse 
the  country  from  north  to  south.  Up  and  down 
the  water-courses,  much  visiting  and  trading  was 
constantly  going  on  among  the  various  tribes ;  while 
people  living  a  very  short  distance  across  the  ranges 
were  to  them  like  inhabitants  of  another  world. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       31 

The  peculiar  physical  features  of  the  peninsula 
of  Florida  have  made  it  a  region  especially  fitted 
for  the  wild  life  of  the  aborigines.  Here  is  a  tongue 
of  land  stretching  to  the  southeast  for  four  hundred 
miles  between  the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  It  is  a  low,  flat  country,  full  of  sluggish 
streams,  many  of  which  are  characterized  by  pond- 
like  expansions.  The  land  abounds  in  lakes  of  vari 
ous  sizes.  There  are  forests  unusually  difficult  to 
penetrate ;  ugly  hummocks  hard  to  approach  and  ex 
tremely  dangerous  when  held  by  enemies;  vast 
swamps  full  of  tangled  shrubs  and  rank  grasses, 
among  which  there  is  no  end  of  hiding-places;  and, 
above  all,  immense  everglades,  making  ordinary 
marshes  appear  tame  in  comparison. 

Here  occurred  two  of  our  Indian  wars,  one  of 
which  was  doubtless  the  most  costly,  savage,  protrac 
ted,  and  discreditable  of  all  our  Indian  campaigns.  It 
took  the  government  of  the  United  States  seven  years, 
at  an  expense  several  times  greater  than  the  original 
cost  of  Florida,  to  defeat  considerably  less  than  two 
thousand  Seminole  warriors,  occupying  this  territory ; 
and  the  loss  of  life  to  the  Americans  was  nearly  equal 
to  the  whole  fighting  force  of  the  enemy.1 

1 "  It  had  cost  the  United  States  upward  of  forty  million 
dollars  and  an  unknown  number  of  lives.  Of  the  regular 
troops,  one  thousand  four  hundred  and  sixty-six,  of  whom 
the  very  large  number  of  two  hundred  and  fifteen  were 
officers,  had  died  during  the  contest."  Drake's  Indian  His 
tory  for  Young  Folks,  pp.  424,  425.  (Other  authorities  put 
expense  at  a  lower  figure.) 


32  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Farther  north  were  the  Iroquois,  who  were  espe 
cially  aided  in  their  achievements  by  physical  agen 
cies.  In  the  first  place,  they  lived  in  a  latitude  and  on 
a  thermal  belt  that  stimulated  them  to  put  into 
profitable  practice  all  their  energies.  The  latitudinal 
line  of  43°  and  the  mean  isothermal  line  of  53°  ran 
through  the  very  heart  of  their  country.  Here,  half 
way  between  the  north  pole  and  the  equator,  was 
their  home.  It  was  a  land  of  neither  enervating 
heat  nor  paralyzing  cold.  It  was  on  a  belt  of  earth 
always  distinguished  for  the  production  of  men  of 
strong  constitutions,  clear  brains,  indomitable  pur 
pose,  and  untiring  energy.  Again,  the  same  advantage 
that  counted  so  much  for  the  English  over  the  French 
in  the  Colonial  wars,  viz.,  restriction  in  territory  and 
compactness  in  population,  counted  also  for  this  well- 
organized  and  formidable  Iroquois  Confederacy,  in 
its  various  conflicts  with  the  hordes  of  hostile  tribes 
that  extended  completely  around  it.  From  their  ad 
vantageous  position  along  the  Mohawk  River  and  the 
chain  of  lakes  of  central  New  York,  these  restless, 
ambitious  fighters  could  pounce  out  upon  the  un- 
forewarned  tribes  of  Algonkins  in  the  adjoining 
territory,  with  astonishing  haste  and  effectiveness. 
Natural  passageways,  by  water  and  land,  led  out  in 
every  direction  from  their  closely  clustered  homes. 
The  Appalachian  Mountain  system,  which  in  territory 
farther  south  was  a  formidable  obstacle  in  the  way  of 
tribal  incursions,  was  in  this  region  so  eroded  and 
leveled  that  it  offered  practically  no  obstruction  to 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       33 

primitive  traveling.  These  peerless  Five  Nations  lived 
at  the  sources  of  great  rivers  and  on  the  borders  of 
important  lakes,  upon  which  canoes  were  advanta 
geously  used  and  alongside  of  which  excellent  trails 
were  made,  leading  eastward,  out  beyond  the  junction 
of  the  Mohawk  and  Hudson  into  New  England; 
southward,  along  the  Hudson,  the  Delaware,  and  the 
Susquehanna  into  southern  New  York,  New  Jersey, 
Pennsylvania,  Delaware,  Maryland,  and  Virginia; 
westward,  down  the  Allegheny  and  Ohio  rivers  and 
along  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Erie  into  the  vast 
territory  of  the  Mississippi  Valley;  and  northward, 
by  the  way  of  Lakes  George  and  Champlain  and  the 
Richelieu  River,  or  along  the  Oswego  and  Black 
rivers,  the  eastern  shore  of  Lake  Ontario,  and  on  to 
the  Saint  Lawrence  into  Canada.  "  They  harried  the 
Indians  to  the  north  and  the  south  until  they  were 
virtual  masters  of  the  territory  from  Hudson  Bay 
to  North  Carolina,  and  east  and  west  they  pushed 
their  conquests  until  their  borders  were  free  from 
danger."  l 

In  and  around  the  northwest  corner  of  North 
America,  have  lived,  since  far  remote  times,  tribes 
that  in  many  respects  would  remind  one  of  the 
Arawaks  and  Caribs  down  on  the  eastern  equatorial 
coast.  Portions  of  the  shore  and  some  of  the  islands 
of  this  north  Pacific  region  are  tempered,  as  has 
been  noticed,  by  the  Japan  current;  while  other  por 
tions,  owing  to  the  high  latitude  and  cold  currents 

*Farrand:  Basis  of  American  History,  p.  161. 
3 


34  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

from  the  north,  are  bleak  and  frozen.  A  long  moun 
tain  range  reaches  from  Alaska,  in  a  southwesterly 
direction,  far  out  into  the  ocean,  where  it  has  become 
broken  up  into  a  large  number  of  islands,  forming 
the  Aleutian  Archipelago.  These  and  other  fragments 
of  land  in  the  vicinity  have  enticed  the  natives  to 
them,  and,  at  the  same  time,  the  inhospitable  shores 
have  driven  the  people  out  upon  the  sea  for  food, 
so  that  they  have  become  pre-eminently  a  maritime 
people.  With  boats  made  from  the  bones  of  walrus 
and  the  skins  of  seals,  they  venture  far  away  from 
home  out  on  the  turbulent  waters,  exposing  them 
selves  to  great  danger  and  enduring  extreme  cold, 
hunger,  and  fatigue.  Their  life  is  a  struggle  for 
food,  which  with  them  consists  principally  of  fish,  a 
few  roots  and  berries,  seal,  otter,  and  whale  blubber. 
Respecting  the  Aleutes,  Bancroft  says :  "  Their  legs 
are  bowed,  from  spending  so  much  of  their  time  in 
boats;  they  frequently  sitting  in  them  fifteen  or 
twenty  hours  at  a  time."  l 

The  coast  and  adjacent  islands  of  northwestern 
Mexico  lying  east  of  the  peninsula  of  Lower  Cal 
ifornia  have  long  been  held  by  the  Seri  Indians. 
Isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  world  by  natural  bar 
riers  and  being  able  to  maintain  at  best  only  a  pre 
carious  existence  on  those  naked  rocks  and  hot  barren 
sands,  they  have  come  to  be  more  brute  than  human. 
China  and  Egypt  in  their  most  exclusive  days  could 
hardly  have  looked  with  greater  disfavor  upon  visit- 

1  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  p.  88. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       35 

ors  than  have  these  people,  even  up  to  the  present 
time.  They  have  exhibited  a  fiendish  hatred  not 
only  for  all  alien  races  but  even  for  the  few  neigh 
boring  remnants  of  their  own.  The  contrast  between 
this  sterile  region  and  that  a  few  hundred  miles  to 
the  southeast  corresponds  very  suggestively  with  the 
difference  between  the  life  and  character  of  these 
wolfish  indigines  on  the  one  hand  and  the  attainments 
of  the  ancient  highly  cultivated  natives  on  the  other. 

Bandelier,  referring  to  the  lack  of  concentration 
among  the  Navahos  when  first  seen  by  Europeans, 
says :  "  Their  country,  in  many  portions  of  it,  fostered 
separation  into  small  bands;  for  its  deep  valleys  are 
long  rather  than  broad,  and  the  arable  and  irrigable 
spots  lie  in  nooks,  corners,  and  bay-like  openings."  1 

The  natural  highways  and  open  places  of  America 
not  only  encouraged  the  growth  and  expansion  of 
the  great  aboriginal  families,  but  they  contributed 
largely  to  the  breaking  up  of  groups  and  the  com 
plete  separation  of  various  branches  from  parent 
stems.  On  the  banks  of  the  Yukon  and  the  Rio 
Grande  rivers,  two  or  three  thousand  miles  from  each 
other,  have  existed  for  centuries,  in  considerable 
numbers,  easily  recognizable  branches  of  the  great 
Athapascan  stock;  and  northward  or  southward 
within  the  great  furrows  of  the  Rocky  Mountain 
plateau,  moved  detached  bands  from  one  of  these 
territories  toward  the  other,  prompted  by  war, 

1  Investigations  Among  the  Indians  of  the  Southwest, 
part  i,  p.  176. 


36  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

food-quest,  adventure,  curiosity,  or  other  motives. 
Meeting  perhaps  with  powerful  war-parties,  or  in 
duced  by  hunger,  attractive  landscapes,  or  other 
influences,  these  small  bands  were  drawn  or  driven 
from  their  naturally  created  pathways,  laterally 
downward  through  the  western  passes  of  the  moun 
tains;  and  here  and  there  to-day  one  may  easily 
find  along  the  broad  Pacific,  especially  on  the  Cal 
ifornia  coast,  remains  of  the  homes  and  the  home- 
life  of  these  off-shoots. 

Let  us  pass  again  over  the  map  of  the  western 
hemisphere,  particularly  over  the  northern  portion 
of  it,  observing  the  various  inhabitants  of  the  coun 
try  from  the  viewpoint  of  race  culture. 

When  the  aborigines  of  North  America  were  firstv, 
seen,   they   represented   several   stages   of   progress,  j 
Not  only  great  territorial  groups  and  linguistic  stocks 
differed  materially  in  degrees  of  advancement,  but 
even  the  tribes,  and  some  very  small  ones  at  that, 
served   as  marked  examples  of  the  advantages  or 
disadvantages  of  physiographical  conditions. 

Taking  Morgan's  ethnic  periods  1  as  a  basis,  one 
would  rank  the  people  of  the  plains  of  northwestern 
North  America  in  the  upper  stages  of  savagery;  the 
tribes  east  of  the  Mississippi,  generally  speaking,  in 
the  lower  stages  of  barbarism ;  the  tribes  of  New  and 
Old  Mexico,  Yucatan,  Central  America,  and  Peru 
in  the  middle  stages  of  barbarism,  or  what  the  old 
geographers  would  call  a  semi-civilized  condition.  To 

1  Ancient  Society,  chap.  i. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       37 

be  sure,  the  tribes,  scattered  along  the  great  plateau 
reaching  from  the  Rio  Grande  River  to  Lake  Titi- 
caca,  lacked  a  real  phonetic  alphabet,  which  anthro 
pologists  emphasize  as  a  requisite  for  admission  into 
the  ranks  of  civilized  or  perhaps  even  semi-civilized 
society;  but  they  were  on  the  way  to  meet  even  this 
requirement,  and  had  advanced  far  along  other  lines 
leading  toward  civilization.  For  an  incomputable 
length  of  time,  they  had  been  using  —  as  was  the 
case  with  most,  if  not  all,  of  the  tribes  of  the  conti 
nent  —  the  bow  and  arrow,  that  compound  weapon 
so  important  in  the  evolution  of  races.  They  had 
long  been  familiar  with  the  art  of  pottery-making, 
which  signifies  so  much  in  the  establishing  of  a  gre 
garious,  sedentary,  and  communal  life.  Their  gov 
ernmental  systems  were  unique  and  considerably 
complicated.  In  many  localities  —  in  fact  it  may 
be  laid  down  as  a  rule  in  their  country  —  they  had 
largely  given  up  the  precarious  life  of  hunting,  and 
had  settled  down  to  agriculture.  They  were  already 
building  comfortable  and  permanent  structures  of 
stone  and  sun-dried  brick,  serving  the  double  purpose 
of  dwellings  and  forts.  They  were  just  short  of 
reaching  the  art  of  smelting  iron,  that  greatest,  that 
almost  indispensable  metal  of  civilization;  though, 
according  to  Prescott,1  Bancroft,2  and  others,  some 
were  already  making  bronze. 

1  History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico  (first  edition),  vol.  i, 
P.  139- 
a  Native  Races,  vol.  iv,  p.  557. 


38  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

A  great  disadvantage  to  them  was  the  absence  of 
domestic  animals.  "The  early  inhabitants  of  the  Old 
World  were  favored  with  a  group  of  larger  beasts, 
which  were  easily  tamed  and  consequently  became 
companions  and  helpers.  The  New  World  con 
tained  no  cows,  pigs,  goats,  sheep,  elephants,  don 
keys,  or  camels,  or,  at  least,  no  species  that  seemed 
easy  to  domesticate.  There  was  lacking  the  most 
useful  animal  of  civilization  —  the  horse  —  whose 
size,  strength,  swiftness,  endurance,  and  intelligence 
fit  him  particularly  to  be  the  servant  and  comrade 
of  man.  The  dog  among  the  natives  was  chiefly  a 
companion  of  the  chase,  excepting  at  the  far  north 
and  in  some  parts  of  the  great  plains,  where  he 
was  a  passable  beast  of  burden.  The  bison  and  the 
mountain  sheep  were  not  docile  enough  to  be  used 
to  advantage  as  domestic  animals. 

A  slight  exception  to  what  has  just  been  said 
must  be  made  with  regard  to  the  Peruvian  aborig 
ines,  who%  made  some  use  of  the  llama  and  alpaca 
for  food,  clothing,  and  beasts  of  burden;  but  these 
animals  were  very  limited  in  usefulness  and  confined 
to  a  small  area. 

As  a  partial  compensation  for  lack  of  tame 
beasts,  a  cereal  plant,  the  maize,  was  widely 
distributed  over  the  New  World  and  helped  sub 
stantially  the  growth  of  village  life.  This  plant 
was  cultivated  very  extensively  among  the  various 
branches  of  the  race,  extending  from  New  Mexico 
to  Peru. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       39 

Before  leaving  these  people,  who  of  all  the  abo 
rigines  were  most  advanced  in  culture  at  the  time 
of  the  discovery  of  America  by  Europeans,  it 
should  be  noticed  that,  while  they  lived  within  or 
near  the  tropics,  they  did  not,  as  a  rule,  make 
their  homes  on  the  hot,  humid,  and  enervating  low 
lands.  Had  they  done  so  their  career  would  have 
been  far  different.  They  would  doubtless  have  been 
as  rude  and  repulsive  as  many  of  the  tribes  to  the 
east  of  them,  especially  those  found  near  the 
Amazon  and  its  tributaries.1  They  luckily  selected 
for  their  habitation  the  high  and  dry  isolated 
plateaus,  crowned  and  fringed  with  snowy  peaks, 
among  which  circulated  the  pure,  stimulating,  moun 
tain  air.  This  elevation  secured  for  them  many  of 
the  advantages  of  the  temperate  zone,  and  their 
naturally  fortified  retreats  tended  to  save  them 
from  invasions  by  savage  hordes.  Here  half-way 
between  the  poles,  on  the  crest  of  this  western 
world,  scattered  for  four  or  five  thousand  miles 
through  elevated  natural  parks  and  pleasant  val 
leys,  these  people  lived,  struggled,  and  prospered. 

The    whole    population    north    of    Mexico,    con 
sisting  perhaps  of   four  or  five  hundred  thousand 

1 "  In  culture  the  Tapuyas  are  reported  to  stand  on  the 
lowest  scale.  When  free  in  their  native  woods  they  go  abso 
lutely  naked;  they  have  no  other  houses  than  temporary 
shelters  of  leaves  and  branches;  they  manufacture  no  pot 
tery,  build  no  canoes,  and  do  not  know  how  to  swim.  When 
first  in  contact  with  the  whites,  they  had  no  dogs,  knew 
nothing  of  the  use  of  tobacco  or  salt,  and  were  common 
cannibals."  Brinton:  The  American  Race,  p.  238. 


40  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

people,  was  divided  into  about  a  dozen  large  terri 
torial  groups.1  Of  these  the  most  of  what  may  be 
termed  the  barbaric  Indians  were  scattered  over  a 
middle  zone,  or  section,  reaching  eastward  from  the 
Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Atlantic  and  northward 
from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  far  above  the  Great 
Lakes  and  Saint  Lawrence  River.  This  area,  com 
prising  less  than  half  of  the  dozen  greater  families 
of  North  America  above  the  Gila  River,  contained 
probably  more  than  half  of  the  population. 

Many  of  the  groups  within  this  great  barbaric 
section  of  country  doubtless  should  be  classed  as 
nomadic,  or,  at  least,  semi-nomadic.  There  were 
loosely  defined  territorial  limits,  within  which  clans, 
tribes,  and  confederacies  were  supposed  to  remain,2 
but  the  members  of  those  organizations  were  con 
stantly  pushing  out  beyond  their  own  domains,  and 
waging  war  with  their  neighbors ;  and  very  fre 
quently  a  fight  meant  the  extermination  of  one  of 
the  antagonistic  parties  and  the  occupation  of  the 
land  by  the  other. 

The  tribes  and  families  scattered  over  this  large 
and  highly  diversified  country  differed  very  mate- 

1  Brooks:  Story  of  the  American  Indian,  chap.  iii. 
Brinton:  American  Race.    North  American  Tribes. 
Deniker:  The  Races  of  Man,  chap.  xiii. 
If  all  the  small  struggling  groups  were  counted,  the  total 
would  be  about  sixty. 

2Tylor  says  this  of  land  tenure  in  South  America:  "Thus 
in  Brazil  each  tribe  had  its  boundaries  marked  by  rocks, 
trees,  streams,  or  even  artificial  landmarks,  and  trespass  in 
pursuit  of  game  was  held  so  serious  that  the  offender  might 
be  slain  on  the  spot."  Anthropology,  p.  419. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       41 

rially  from  one  another  in  size,  character,  and  pur 
suits.  Bordering  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  and  the 
Atlantic,  and  extending  over  nearly  a  half-dozen 
of  the  southern  states  of  to-day,  were  the  Appa 
lachians,  or  Maskoki,  dwelling  in  a  fashion  suited 
to  the  opportunities  and  limitations  of  their  sub 
tropical  climate.  The  nature  of  the  country  in 
clined  them  toward  a  sedentary  and  agricultural  life. 

Directly  to  the  north  of  these  and  covering  the 
greater  part  of  the  territory  extending  from  the 
Atlantic  to  the  Mississippi  and  up  to  Hudson  Bay, 
were  the  Algonkins,  strong,  fearless,  and  full  of  the 
energy  which  is  characteristic  of  men  living  in 
such  latitudes. 

In  northern  New  York  and  reaching  over  into 
Canada  and  out  among  the  Great  Lakes,  were  the 
Iroquois,  whose  energy  and  prowess  gained  for  them 
the  title,  "  Romans  of  the  New  World."  As  has 
been  noticed,  they  were  completely  surrounded  by 
Algonkins  whom  they  closely  resembled  in  ambition 
and  fighting  qualities,  but  to  whom  in  many  re 
spects  they  were  superior. 

To  the  westward,  covering  an  immense  territory 
bounded  by  northern  Texas,  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
the  Saskatchewan  region,  and  the  Mississippi  River, 
were  the  Dakotas,  or  Sioux,  wild  as  the  plains  over 
which  they  roved. 

As  has  been  said,  these  barbarous  natives  were, 
generally  speaking,  nomads.  They,  however,  main 
tained  a  primitive  sort  of  village  life,  and  a  few, 


42  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

for  example,  the  Iroquois,  Mandans,  and  some  tribes 
farther  south,  built  immovable  and  tolerably  sub 
stantial  habitations.  Many,  perhaps  the  majority, 
of  their  dwellings,  however,  consisted  of  tents  of 
skins,  which  could  be  taken  down  easily  and  carried 
to  any  place  where  game,  horticulture,  war,  or  plun 
der  might  attract  them.  For  food  they  depended 
principally  upon  the  chase  and  the  products  of  the 
rude  tillage.  The  latter  was  carried  on  mainly  by 
the  women. 

Their  arts  consisted  of  such  simple  industries  as 
the  production  of  crude  pottery,  coarse  ornaments  for 
clothing,  canoes  of  bark  or  skins,  boats  formed  from 
logs,  and  a  few  common  primitive  weapons. 

The  misfortune  of  lacking  domestic  animals  on 
the  American  continent  has  been  already  referred 
to;  and  this  want  was  particularly  felt  throughout 
these  vast  areas  of  open  country,  where  beasts  of 
burden  would  have  been  extremely  valuable.  The 
uniformity  of  nature  and  the  flatness  of  this  part 
of  the  western  continent,  extending  over  territories 
covering  thousands  of  square  miles,  have  attracted 
the  attention  of  visitors  and  writers  like  Bryce,1  De 
Tocqueville  2  and  Guyot.3  The  general  evenness  of 
country  along  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  Great  Lakes,  and  throughout  the  Mississippi 
Valley,  contributed  much  toward  keeping  the  natives 

1  American  Commonwealth,  chap.  cxvi. 
*  Democracy  in  America,  vol.  i,  chap.  i. 
8  Earth  and  Man,  chap.  viii. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       43 

in  a  state  of  barbarism.  Easy  and  constant  inter-  * 
communication  may  be  one  of  the  most  potent  fac 
tors  in  sustaining  the  march  of  civilization,  or  may 
prove  a  barrier.  The  effect  depends  upon  the  nature 
of  the  intercourse,  and  the  status  of  the  parties 
coming  into  contact  with  one  another.  In  primitive 
life  there  seem  to  be  certain  advantages  in  isolation. 
On  this  topic  Shaler  says :  "  It  appears  in  the  Old 
World  that  all  the  folk  who  succeeded  in  passing 
from  savagery  to  civilization,  secured  their  advance 
by  occupying  some  limited  field  where,  by  reason 
of  mountain  ranges  or  broad  spaces  of  sea,  they  were 
safe  from  the  incursions  of  savage  neighbors,  and 
were  thus  able  through  centuries  to  accomplish  a 
great  deal  of  progress  in  the  development  of  the 
arts,  which  is  impossible  without  the  seclusion  and 
safety  which  comes  from  such  isolation."  l  One  may 
pass  from  England  to  Egypt,  through  southern  Asia 
with  its  isolated  sections,  on  to  Japan  and  thence 
to  America,  or  he  may  take  a  more  northern  route 
above  the  Alps  and  Himalayas,  and,  in  either  case, 
he  will  find,  on  every  hand,  abundant  proof  of  this 
statement.  It  was  impossible  for  American  tribes 
to  exist  and  thrive,  or,  at  least,  to  make  much 
progress,  where  the  topography  of  the  country  of 
fered  no  protection  from  powerful  neighboring 
marauders,  ready  at  any  moment  to  swoop  down 
upon  more  or  less  sedentary  communities,  destroy 
them,  and  seize  everything  in  sight.  There  is  little 
1  Story  of  Our  Continent,  chap,  iv,  p.  162. 


44  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ambition  to  accumulate  wealth,  to  foster  the  arts 
of  peace,  when  the  life  and  property  of  a  people 
are  constantly  menaced,  and  the  chief  business  of 
life  must  be  given  up  to  warfare  and  preparation  for 
warfare. 

This  portion  of  the  United  States,  on  which  the 
barbarian  natives  have  lived,  is  of  special  interest 
to  us  from  a  historical  viewpoint.  Here  were  the 
aborigines  that  most  engaged  the  attention  of  the 
pioneers  who  were  planting  colonies  and  states. 
These  were  the  hardy  natives  with  whom  the 
whites  traded,  fought,  and  made  treaties.  Here 
were  the  great  warriors  that  stubbornly  contested 
every  foot  of  ground  gained  by  the  intruders.  Here, 
also,  could  be  found  the  most  noted  orators  and 
statesmen  of  the  red  tribes.  Here  was  the  courteous 
Massasoit,  honored  by  two  races.  Here  was  his  son, 
Philip,  a  terror  to  the  thinly  scattered  settlers  of 
New  England.  Here  were  Powhatan  and  his  daugh 
ter,  two  figures  of  more  than  ordinary  interest  in 
Virginia  history.  On  the  outskirts  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks  was  Brant,  the  Mohawk,  a  warrior  of  the 
fiercest  type,  obtaining  an  education  from  the  white 
man  and  using  those  accomplishments  against  the 
early  settlers  of  the  Empire  State  with  telling  re 
sults.  Here,  on  the  shore  of  Seneca  Lake^  was 
Red  Jacket,  the  distinguished  barbarian,  the  con 
summate  orator,  whose  abilities  would  be  a  credit 
to  any  civilized  nation.  On  this  geographical  belt 
was  the  great  Ottawa  chieftain,  Pontiac,  a  leader 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       45 

of  marked  ability,  fearless  and  crafty,  an  unmiti 
gated  enemy  of  the  new-comers,  and  the  pre-eminent 
conspirator  of  all  the  aboriginal  north.  In  the  region 
of  the  Ohio  was  Tecumseh,  the  famous  Shawnee, 
who  proved  almost  a  rival  of  Pontiac  himself  as  a 
leader  and  fighter.  The  land  about  the  upper  waters 
of  the  Mississippi  produced  Black  Hawk,  the  famous 
Sac  chieftain,  fearless,  restless,  and  ambitious,  the 
unrivaled  hater  of  the  white  race,  the  enviable 
warrior  and  forensic  leader  of  his  own.  Many  others 
might  be  added.  Such  names  as  Chief  Joseph  of  the 
Nez  Perces,  Sequoyah  of  the  Cherokees,  Sitting  Bull 
of  the  Sioux,  Captain  Jack  of  the  Modocs,  and 
Satana  of  the  Kiowas  come  readily  to  mind.  A  long 
roll  of  names  might  also  be  added  to  exemplify  noted 
deeds  of  valor,  mercy,  justice,  patriotism, —  in  fact 
the  whole  list  of  virtues,  the  counterparts  of  which, 
when  found  in  the  ranks  of  civilized  men,  are  re 
corded  and  cited  "  to  point  a  moral  or  adorn  a 
tale." 

It  is  not  for  the  purpose  of  arousing  sentiment  or 
sympathy,  nor  is  it  even  for  exalting  the  character 
of  the  natives,  that  these  nobler  qualities  have  been 
named.  The  world  is  familiar  with  the  Indians' 
perfidy,  their  cruelty,  their  delight  in  torturing  vic 
tims,  J:heir  custom  of  taking  scalps,  and  their  many 
other  undesirable  traits  of  character  and  horrible 
customs.  All  this  is  readily  conceded,  but  the  im 
pression  too  often  prevails  that  these  people  have 
always  been  and  now  are  practically  devoid  of  intel- 


46  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ligence,  honor,  or  morality;  which  certainly  is  far 
from  the  truth.  The  witnesses  on  the  other  side, 
unfortunately,  have  not  had  the  privilege  of  giving 
testimony. 

There  are,  indeed,  good  and  bad  Indians,  as  is  the 
case  with  the  white  race.  Some  one  has  truly  said 
that  between  a  Pueblo  and  an  Apache,  or  a  Nez  Perce 
and  an  Arapahoe,  there  is  as  much  difference  as 
between  a  Broadway  merchant  and  a  Bowery  rough. 

It  seems,  therefore,  that  the  members  of  this  great 
barbaric  division  —  still  keeping  in  mind  Morgan's 
classification  —  on  account  of  the  disadvantages  of 
the  open  country,  the  lack  of  domestic  animals,  the 
difficulties  of  forest-clearing,  their  ignorance  of  iron- 
smelting,  and  other  similar  drawbacks,  were  unable 
to  get  farther  along  than  this  middle  stage  of  cul 
ture;  nevertheless,  the  names  of  the  brilliant  chief 
tains  we  have  noticed,  as  well  as  the  native  vigor  of 
the  tribes  under  discussion,  remind  us  that  here 
stretches  out  on  latitudinal  lines  the  great  intellectual 
zone  of  earth,  and  here  we  find,  as  would  naturally 
be  expected,  restlessness,  ambition,  determination, 
enterprise,  and  advancement, —  all  of  which  are  char 
acteristic  of  this  great  mind  belt.  The  January  iso 
thermal  line  of  forty-one  degrees  runs  through  the 
very  heart  of  the  country  we  have  just  been  discuss 
ing,  and,  in  regard  to  the  aboriginal  occupants  of  it, 
the  remark  of  Draper  seems  particularly  appropri 
ate:  "It  [the  January  isothermal  line  of  41°]  may 
therefore  be  regarded  as  the  axis  of  a  zone  a  few 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       47 

degrees  wide,  upon  which,  in  Europe  and  Asia,  all 
great  men  have  appeared."  l 

As  in  the  Old  World  there  has  been  a  tendency  _/ 
in  the  north  temperate  countries  to  foster  race  inde-  r^ 
pendence,  individual  freedom,  and  democratic  forms 
of  government,  and  in  the  more  southern  a  tend 
ency  toward  serfdom  and  monarchial  institutions, 
so,  among  the  aborigines  of  North  America,  there 
appeared  a  much  stronger  personality,  a  more  in 
dependent  spirit,  and,  on  the  whole,  a  much  keener 
intellect,  than  among  the  members  of  the  race 
living  on  the  lowlands  in  the  vicinity  of  the  equa 
tor.  "  The  Indian  of  the  North,"  says  Scudder,  "  was 
a  stern,  silent  man,  who  knew  the  rigors  of  a  north 
ern  winter  and  the  perils  of  the  wilderness.  His 
highest  idea  of  courage  was  to  suffer  without  com 
plaining.  He  was  a  different  being  from  the  Indian 
whom  the  Spaniard  met  on  the  islands  of  the  Gulf 
or  even  in  the  highlands  of  Mexico."2  "  The  Indians 
that  Columbus  met  in  the  West  Indies,"  says  Mont 
gomery,  "  were  usually  gentle,  timid,  and  easily  en 
slaved  by  Europeans.  But  no  colonist  ever  accused 
the  northern  Indians  of  excessive  meekness  of 
spirit."  3 

Regarding  a  tribe  a  few  degrees  south  of  the 
equator  in  the  interior  of  South  America,  Brinton 
says :  "  [The  Cashibos  are  the  most  savage  tribe  on  the 

1  Civil  War  in  America,  vol.  i,  p.  124. 

3  School  History  of  the  United  States,  p.  52. 

8  Student's  American  History,  p.  19. 


48  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Ucayali  or  its  affluents,  and  are  said  to  have  the  ugly 
custom  of  eating  their  relations  when  they  die,  and 
if  this  event  is  long  delayed,  the  old  men  are  killed."  1 
Of  a  tribe  on  the  Mamore  at  about  thirteen  degrees 
south  of  the  equator,  he  says :  "  They  were  unusually 
dark  in  complexion  and  ugly  of  feature ;  nor  did  this 
unprepossessing  exterior  belie  their  habits  or  tem 
perament.  They  were  morose,  quarrelsome,  tricky, 
and  brutal  cannibals,  preferring  theft  to  agriculture 
and  prone  to  drunkenness."  2  "  In  the  South  Ameri 
can  Indian,"  says  Guyot,  "  all  these  defects  are  still 
more  exaggerated,  and  give  to  the  races  of  the  South 
compared  with  those  of  the  North,  a  very  marked 
character  of  inferiority."  3  Though  our  interest  first 
of  all  is  in  the  aborigines  above  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
these  South  African  tribes  have  been  noticed  in 
passing,  because  they  exemplify  vividly  the  deep  con 
trast  between  themselves  and  those  above  them  on 
the  north  temperate  zone. 

On  the  same  latitudes  even,  there  are  differences 
worth  noting.  The  milder  coast  of  the  Pacific  seems 
to  have  brought  forth  a  gentler  kind  of  people  than 
did  the  "  stern  and  rock-bound  coast  "of  the  Atlan 
tic.  "  The  Pacific  tribes  are  more  quiet,  submissive 
and  docile;  they  have  less  courage,  and  less  of  that 
untamable  independence  which  is  so  constant  a  fea 
ture  in  the  history  of  the  Algonkins  and  Iroquois."  4 

1  The  American  Race,  p.  290. 

2  Id.,  p.  301. 

8  Earth  and  Man,  p.  247. 
4Brinton:  American  Race,  p.  104. 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       49 

If  it  seemed  necessary,  many  striking  examples  of 
similarity  of  tribes  living  far  apart  could  also  be 
furnished,  where  physical  conditions  are  of  the  same 
nature  in  both  countries;  as,  for  example,  the 
nomadic  Pampean  stocks  along  the  banks  of  the 
Parana  compared  with  the  roving  tribes  of  our  own 
western  plains. 

To  the  northwest  of  a  line  loosely  drawn  from 
Hudson  Bay  to  the  northwestern  corner  of  the 
United  States,  were  what  may  be  called  the  savage 
aborigines,  representing  the  third  great  division  of 
the  race,  in  distinction  from  the  barbarous  and  semi- 
civilized,  already  noticed.  Over  the  greater  part  of 
the  inland  portion  of  this  territory  roamed  the  Tin- 
neh,  or  Athapascan,  tribes,  undoubtedly  the  best 
representatives  of  this  grade  of  culture.  The  land 
on  which  they  lived  was  cold  and  barren,  and  from 
it  the  real  necessities  of  life  were  obtained  with 
difficulty.  The  half  -  starved  inhabitants  prowled 
about  over  the  country,  singly  or  in  small  groups, 
searching  for  the  limited  supply  of  berries,  roots, 
fish  and  wild  game,  which  the  region  afforded.  These 
hard  conditions  fostered  isolation  and  savagery,  and 
so  prohibited  any  extended  system  of  village  life  and 
domestic  arts.  Occasionally  bands,  such,  for  instance, 
as  the  Apaches,  would  wander  off  the  territory  and 
fight  their  way  to  the  possession  of  perhaps  more  con 
genial  lands,  far  remote  from  their  ancestral  abodes. 

Above,  on  a  frozen  fringe  of  territory  some  five 
thousand  miles  in  length  and  bordering  on  the  Arctic 


So  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Ocean,  the  Eskimos  have  lived,  no  one  knows  how 
long.  Three  months  of  darkness,  three  of  sunlight, 
and  six  of  twilight  bring  to  the  people  occupying 
these  regions  peculiar  experiences  —  experiences 
such  as  are  never  dreamed  of  in  more  favored 
lands.  On  these  ice-bound  tracts  all  thoughts  and 
actions  of  the  people  are  consumed  in  plans  and 
in  the  execution  of  plans  for  obtaining  food.  When 
men  live  on  the  borderland  of  starvation,  and  all 
energies  are  expended  in  simply  devising  ways  and 
means  for  getting  nourishment,  there  can  be  no 
culture  of  a  very  high  order. 

In  taking  a  look  over  this  vast  territory,  extending 
from  the  ice  fields  of  the  Artie  to  the  barren  cliffs 
of  the  Tierra  del  Fuego,  the  survey  has  necessarily 
been  wide  and  superficial  rather  than  deep  and 
thorough.  It  has  been  a  glimpse,  nothing  more;  but 
in  a  general  way  it  may  be  seen  that  throughout  the 
whole  western  world  the  several  great  physical  agen 
cies,  such  as  seas,  rivers,  plains,  deserts,  forests,  and 
mountains,  have  set  limits,  or  given  encouragement, 
to  the  growth  and  progress  of  the  various  divisions  of 
the  race.  Everywhere  the  topography  of  the  country 
has  created  tendencies  to  unite  into  large  groups  or 
to  break  up  into  small  ones.  Some  tribes  we  find 
squeezed  into  isolated  and  undesirable  localities, 
others  given  excellent  advantages  for  development 
and  improving  those  advantages.  Examples  are 
plentiful  to  show  how  the  occupants  of  one  district, 
on  account  of  limited  land  boundaries  and  scanty 


CONCERNING  THE  ABORIGINES       51 

food  supplies,  were  always  on  the  threshold  of  ex 
tinction,  while  neighboring  tribes,  more  highly 
favored,  were  constantly  growing  larger  and  more 
powerful. 

If  a  closer  inspection  were  deemed  necessary,  one 
could  find  among  the  widely  scattered  members  of 
this  interesting  western  race,  almost  unlimited 
examples  of  local  influences,  entering  into  their  life 
and  affecting  their  various  careers.  Tacitus  tells  us 
how  the  wild  German  tribes  in  seeking  homes  were 
induced  to  settle  in  this  locality  or  that,  owing  to 
topographical  consideration.1  Likewise  the  thou 
sands  of  lakes,  bays,  inlets,  brooks,  coves,  pools, 
springs,  islands,  rivers,  sea-beaches,  strips  of  fertile 
soil,  valleys,  glens,  caves,  sheltered  nooks,  useful 
minerals,  plants,  wild  beasts,  birds,  and  fishes  of  the 
western  continent  have  been  incomprehensibly  ac 
countable  for  the  various  allotments  and  distributions 
of  the  numerous  tribes.  Moreover,  this  diversity  of 
physical  conditions,  from  the  most  important  one  of 
climate  down  to  some  simple  source  of  local  attrac 
tion  or  disturbance  —  even  a  tribal  quarrel  over  the 
possession  of  a  natural  water-fountain  —  stirred  the 
passions  and  shaped  or  modified  the  character,  in 
accordance  with  the  greater  or  lesser  influence  of  the 
agency  in  operation.  "  The  native  races  of  America," 
says  Bancroft,  "  by  their  geographical  position  and 
the  climatic  influences  which  govern  them,  are  of 

1 "  Colunt  discreti  ac  diversi,  ut  fons,  ut  campus,  ut  nemus 
placuit."   Germania,  16. 


52  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

necessity  to  a  certain  degree  similar;  while  a  separa 
tion  into  isolated  communities  which  are  acted  upon 
by  local  causes  results  in  national  or  tribal  distinc 
tions.  Thus  the  human  race  in  America,  like  the 
human  race  throughout  the  world,  is  uniform  in  its 
variety,  and  varied  in  its  unity.  Descending  from  the 
north  into  more  genial  climes,  the  physical  type 
changes,  and  the  form  assumes  more  graceful  pro 
portions.  With  the  expansion  of  nature  and  a  freer 
play  of  physical  powers,  the  mind  expands,  native 
character  becomes  intensified,  instinct  keener,  savage 
nature  more  savage,  the  nobler  qualities  become  more 
noble;  cruelty  is  more  cruel,  torture  is  elevated  into 
an  art,  stoicism  is  cultivated,  human  sacrifice  and 
human  slavery  begin,  and  the  oppression  and 
degradation  of  woman  is  systematised."  l 

1  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  p.  96. 


CHAPTER    III 

PUEBLO   LANDS   AND    HOMES 

THE  aborigines  to  whom  special  attention  is 
directed  in  these  pages,  comprise  a  large 
part  of  the  native  inhabitants  of  the  land 
of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona,  a  narrow  strip  of 
southern  Colorado  and  Utah,  a  small  portion  of 
southeastern  California,  and  considerable  territory 
of  northern  Mexico.  This  rather  indefinite  area 
may  be  larger  than  that  actually  occupied  by  these 
people,  but  the  boundaries  are  made  large  purposely 
so  as  to  include  abandoned  homes  in  outlying  dis 
tricts.  The  region  is  known  as  the  Pueblo  country,  a 
name  given  it  by  the  Spaniards.  The  word  pueblo 
means  village,  and  hence  the  people  living  in  these 
peculiar  communal  houses  are  called  Pueblo  Indians. 
Within  the  border  of  this  expanse  are  other  aborig 
ines,  not  dwelling  in  such  buildings,  but  who,  on 
account  of  proximity  and  inter-relation,  are  entitled 
to  occasional  notice. 

Ranges  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  system  traverse  the 
country  in  a  northwesterly  and  southeasterly  direc 
tion,  while  sharp  spurs  run  outward  from  the  main 
series  toward  every  point  of  the  compass.  Canons 
thousands  of  feet  in  depth,  and  many  of  them  so  nar 
row  that  the  rays  of  the  sun  can  hardly  penetrate 

53 


54  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

them  at  noonday,  are  found  all  the  way  along  the 
higher  elevations.  Isolated  peaks  reach  upward  from 
the  principal  ranges  to  the  height  of  twelve  or  thir 
teen  thousand  feet  above  sea-level.  Here  also  are  vast 
plateaus — mesas  they  are  called  in  the  Southwest — 
rising  abruptly  from  the  common  plain  to  the  distance 
of  several  hundred  feet,  and  covering  hundreds  of 
square  miles.  Frequently,  at  some  distance  back,  other 
similar  steep  masses  appear  above  the  first  tier,  so 
that  there  are  often  three  or  four  immense  platforms, 
the  whole  forming  a  system  of  majestic  terraces. 
Here  and  there  solitary  buttes,  worn  into  forms  of 
cones  or  truncated  prisms,  stand  out  on  the  horizon, 
and  give  to  the  field  of  vison  a  peculiar  aspect  of 
loneliness  and  mystery.  Huge  jagged  rocks,  jutting 
out  from  the  primary  elevations,  becoming  toned 
down  in  color  when  seen  from  a  distance,  appear 
like  great  forts,  castles,  or  cathedrals. 

Over  the  whole,  nature  spreads  a  variety  of  color 
ing  that  is  truly  fascinating.  White,  red,  and  gray 
rocks  form  a  background,  upon  which  settles  an 
atmosphere  of  deep  and  dainty  tints.  Throughout  the 
whole  day  the  color  scheme  is  constantly  changing. 
The  delicate  blues,  yellows,  pinks,  and  purples  are 
hour  by  hour  intensified,  softened,  blended,  or  super 
seded  by  other  hues. 

As  the  sun  passes  out  of  sight  into  the  western 
horizon  and  throws  its  last  rays  upon  the  summit  of 
some  lofty  peak  to  the  eastward  of  the  observer,  a 
most  picturesque  series  of  colors,  lying  in  strata,  may 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          55 

be  seen,  as  the  eye  passes  from  the  fiery  summit  down 
through  an  ever  softening  pink  and  on  through  an 
ever  deepening  blue  into  the  nearly  black  circle  at 
the  base. 

On  account  of  the  bright  sunlight,  ordinary  shad 
ows  are  remarkably  dense;  and  therefore  hollows, 
caves,  and  canons  appear  almost  dark  as  night. 

These  natural  objects  and  unique  conditions  —  the 
clear  air,  bright  blue  sky,  charming  sunsets,  and 
exceptional  variety  of  landscape  color  —  make  the 
mountain  country  of  Pueblo  land  a  paradise  for  the 
artist. 

While  the  distributions  of  lights  and  colors  lend 
charm  to  the  country  in  general  and  to  the  moun 
tain  districts  in  particular,  there  are  many  sections 
which  have  an  over-abundance  of  unattractive  nat 
ural  features.  There  are  great  stretches  of  plains,  the 
very  embodiment  of  monotony.  Standing  on  some 
elevation,  one  may  look  out  over  an  immense  level 
region  as  over  an  ocean.  Not  a  sound  greets  the  ear. 
Not  a  living,  moving  object  is  in  sight.  The  loneliness 
is  oppressive.  The  sun  pours  down  from  a  cloudless 
sky  through  the  thin  atmosphere  and  makes  the  day 
light  fierce  and  dazzling.  Here  and  there  the  hot  air- 
blanket,  unsteadily  hovering  over  the  sandy  plain, 
becomes  suddenly  broken  in  spots,  and  whirling 
clouds  of  dust  rush  upward  into  the  heavens.  One 
is  surprised  to  see  in  the  far  distance  what  appears  to 
be  an  immense,  calm,  and  glassy  lake.  Nearer  are 
natural  objects  lifted  disproportionally  into  the  skies. 


56  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Other  forms  are  observed,  imperfect  in  outline,  like 
figures  seen  through  defective  glass,  or  reflected  on 
ruffled  water.  The  illusion  vanishes  when  it  is  re 
called  that  this  is  the  land  of  the  mirage.  The  heat  of 
the  day  rapidly  dissipates  in  the  rarefied  air  as  soon 
as  the  sun  goes  down,  and  hence  the  nights  are  cool. 
Snow,  occasionally  falling  to  the  depth  of  several 
inches,  passes  away  in  a  few  hours. 

Vegetation  as  a  natural  growth  is  scanty.  There 
is  hardly  anything  worthy  of  the  name  of  turf.  There 
are  several  kinds  of  weeds,  interspersed  with  nutri 
tious  grasses.  Cactus,  greasewood,  yucca,  rhus,  and 
artemisia  are  indigenous  to  such  soil  and  climate,  and 
hence  appear  as  characteristic  plants.  There  is,  as  a 
rule,  but  little  underbrush.  Willows,  cherry-trees, 
and  alders  are  occasionally  found  on  the  banks  of 
streams.  Cottonwoods  grow  here,  as  throughout 
the  whole  Southwest.  The  forests  are,  for  the 
most  part,  of  the  nature  of  groves,  and  consist 
principally  of  spruces,  pines,  scrub-oaks,  junipers, 
and  pifions.  Along  the  sides  of  the  mountains  some 
good  timber  lands  may  be  found.  Thrifty  trees 
grow  there,  because  the  soil  is  moistened  with  snow, 
which  is  held  by  the  forests  for  a  great  portion  of 
the  year.  In  the  southern  part  of  this  region  the 
giant  cactus,  a  branchless,  leafless,  log-shaped  mass 
of  vegetable  matter,  with  thorns  on  the  outside  and 
with  ribs  of  woody  fibre,  grows  from  five  to  sixty 
feet  in  height. 

Generally  speaking,  game  is  scarce,  and  difficult  to 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          57 

obtain.  In  the  days  of  the  bison,1  scattering  herds  of 
these  animals  were  frequently  seen  and  killed.  There 
has  evidently  always  been  a  rather  scanty  supply  of 
antelope,  deer,  mountain  sheep,  and  bear.  There  are 
but  few  birds  fit  for  food.  Grouse,  doves,  and 
pigeons  are  the  principal  exceptions.  Vultures  and 
coyotes  are  the  scavengers.  Venomous  animals 
abound.  Rattlesnakes,  centipedes,  tarantulas,  lizards, 
and  Gila  monsters  are  found  as  fit  adjuncts  to  the 
thorny  scanty-leafed  vegetation. 

Everything  carries  with  it  the  suggestion  of  old 
age.  The  country  in  general  appears  as  if  it  had  been 
dried  and  heated  for  centuries,  indeed  for  cycles  of 
centuries.  The  inhabitants  have  the  same  appearance. 
The  hot  dry  atmosphere  makes  the  children  seem  old, 
and  the  old  shriveled  and  weird.  One's  eyes  instinct 
ively  squint  and  one's  face  becomes  distorted  in  the 
glaring  sunlight. 

During  the  spring  months,  and  even  at  other  times 
of  the  year,  there  are  terrific  dust  storms.  Isolated 
clumps  of  weeds  and  bunches  of  bushes  catch  the 
sand  as  it  whirls  about  in  the  wind  among  their  roots, 
and  these  little  shady  mounds  become  the  homes 
and  hiding-places  of  rattlesnakes,  jack-rabbits,  mice, 
beetles,  and  other  creatures.  Strong  winds  drive  the 
dust  very  far  upward  into  the  sky,  and  the  whole 


1  George  Catlin's  map  of  the  Indian  Country  in  1833 
represents  these  animals  ranging  through  the  parks  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains  from  the  head  waters  of  the  Clarke  River 
to  the  mouth  of  the  Rio  Grande. 


58  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

atmosphere  assumes  a  gloomy  yellow  appearance. 
Particles  of  stone,  as  they  are  whirled  through  the 
air,  cut  like  glass,  and,  like  granules  of  snow  in  the 
northern  states,  are  piled  up  into  drifts  —  drifts 
which  never  melt,  and  are  constantly  shifting  from 
place  to  place  and  changing  in  size  and  shape.  In 
many  localities,  where  the  plain  terminates  abruptly 
at  the  base  of  mountain  ranges,  and  the  dust-laden 
wind,  on  that  account,  is  suddenly  arrested  in  its 
course,  dunes  are  piled  up  to  heights  sometimes 
reaching  above  the  tops  of  trees.  In  other  places  the 
trunks  of  the  large  growing  spruces  and  pines  are 
covered  only  up  into  the  branches ;  and  the  tops,  pro 
jecting  out  of  the  sand-beds,  form  picturesque  hills 
and  ridges,  bristling  with  evergreens. 

Pueblo  lands  abound  in  abnormities  and  wonders. 
On  the  northwest  border  is  the  Grand  Canon  of  the 
Colorado,  a  piece  of  awe-inspiring  scenery  which  baf 
fles  description,  the  greatest  wonder  of  its  kind  in  the 
known  world,  a  mighty  gorge  worn  by  the  waters  of 
the  Colorado  to  the  depth  of  a  mile  or  more.  Gray, 
red,  brown,  and  white  cliffs  of  sandstone,  granite,  and 
volcanic  rock  rise  from  various  levels  to  the  height  of 
thousands  of  feet.  Into  the  main  canon  open  hundreds 
of  other  canons  from  all  directions ;  and,  among  these, 
stand  towering  buttes  and  gigantic  ridges  of  stone, 
broken  and  worn  by  the  elements  into  fantastic  shapes 
resembling  fortresses,  castles,  and  cathedrals.  Over 
the  whole  rests  an  atmosphere  of  coloring  which 
makes  the  scene  inexpressibly  enchanting. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          59 

Southeast  of  this  wondrous  Grand  Canon  and 
somewhere  near  the  centre  of  the  Pueblo  country  is 
the  land  of  the  Petrified  Forest.  It  lies  in  detached 
sections,  but  collectively  embraces  thousands  of  acres. 
Back  in  remote  ages  of  geological  time,  large  patches 
of  woodland,  in  what  is  now  called  Arizona,  evi 
dently  became  sunken  into  lakes  of  mud  and  water 
powerfully  mineralized.  The  particles  of  organic 
matter,  thus  preserved,  slowly  gave  way  to  particles 
of  inorganic,  until  these  trees  which  once  probably 
floated  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  became  converted 
into  adamant.  There  they  are  to-day,  strange  prod 
ucts  of  a  sandy  desert.  Here  and  there  broken  trunks, 
some  of  them  four  or  five  feet  in  diameter,  lie  about 
promiscuously,  and  others  project  for  several  feet  out 
from  the  banks  of  earth.  One  noteworthy  log  of 
stone,  with  a  diameter  of  some  four  or  five  feet, 
reaches  across  a  gorge  thirty  or  forty  feet  in  width. 
Throughout  these  forest  districts,  the  scattered  pieces 
of  petrified  wood  vary  from  the  size  of  a  penny  to  the 
weight  of  tons.  Beautifully  colored  fragments,  on 
which  the  impressions  of  bark,  knots,  pith,  and  grain 
of  the  wood  may  be  easily  traced,  are  common.  One 
may  walk  for  miles  among  lumps  of  most  exquisitely 
colored  flint,  amethyst,  and  agate.  These  take  on  a 
beautiful  polish  and  in  the  hands  of  lapidaries  be 
come  of  great  commercial  value.  The  impressions  of 
beauty,  silence,  and  mystery  associated  with  this 
strange  piece  of  great  Nature's  handiwork,  once 
experienced,  can  never  be  forgotten.  Here  is  a  pros- 


60  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

trate  forest  without  a  green  leaf,  a  vein  of  sap,  or  a 
budding,  blossoming  twig  —  a  forest  upon  which 
winds,  frosts,  and  sunshine  have  no  effect.  One 
becomes  spellbound  and  awe-stricken  simply  gazing 
upon  it. 

In  other  parts  of  the  country  are  springs,  wells,  and 
small  lakes  of  brine,  some  of  them  holding  so  much 
salt  in  solution  that  Indians  come  hundreds  of  miles 
to  visit  them.  The  water  is  dipped  up  and  allowed  to 
evaporate ;  and,  when  enough  of  the  residue  has  accu 
mulated,  it  is  carried  by  the  natives  to  their  homes. 
These  salt-supplying  springs  are  sometimes  very 
carefully  guarded,  and  are  the  causes  of  innumer 
able  jealousies  and  feuds. 

Again,  in  many  parts  of  this  strange  land  one  may 
travel  scores  of  miles  over  volcanic  rock,  porous  as  a 
sponge, —  rock  that,  in  comparatively  recent  times, 
flowed  from  the  ground  like  a  mighty  river  out  over 
the  country,  and  became  hardened.  Over  many  of 
these  vast  beds  of  stone  there  is  no  soil,  and,  as  a 
result,  no  living  thing  exists  upon  them. 

The  aborigines,  of  course,  built  no  bridges  over 
their  rivers  and  streams,  but  there  came  to  be  many 
fords,  where  crossing  could  be  done  with  compara 
tive  safety.  Convenient  and  well-defined  routes  were 
highly  desirable  on  account  of  the  nature  of  the 
water-courses.  The  composition  of  the  soil,  contain 
ing  as  it  does  large  proportions  of  slippery  particles 
of  mica  mixed  with  the  other  ingredients,  and  the 
tendency  of  the  surface  of  the  land  in  many  places 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          61 

to  favor  water-soaked  banks,  create  innumerable  and 
destructive  beds  of  quicksand. 

There  is  especially  great  danger  in  crossing  these 
streams  in  times  of  flood.  A  dry  gulch  in  the  course 
of  a  few  minutes  may  be  changed  into  a  raging 
torrent,  sweeping  everything  in  its  way.  Regarding 
the  smaller  streams  Lummis  writes :  "  I  have  seen 
them  rolling  down  in  freshets  with  four-foot  waves 
which  seemed  simply  sand  in  flow;  and  it  is  a  fact 
that  the  bodies  of  those  who  are  drowned  at  such 
times  are  almost  never  recovered.  The  strange  river 
buries  them  forever  in  its  own  sands."  1 

The  land  also  has  its  peculiar  pitfalls.  There  are 
deep  soft  holes  in  the  earth  which  are  exceedingly 
dangerous,  and  especially  so  because  they  offer  no 
warning.  Lummis  says :  "  These  masked  wells  occur 
in  bare,  alkali-covered  flats.  The  mud  upon  their 
surface  is  baked  dry,  and  there  is  absolutely  nothing 
to  distinguish  them  from  the  safe  ground  around. 
But  man  or  horse  or  sheep  or  cow  that  once  steps 
upon  that  treacherous  surface  slumps  from  sight  in 
an  instant."  2 

This  is  indeed  a  land  of  wonders,  and  beauties, 
and  oddities,  and  surprises.  Old  Australia  itself  can 
hardly  match  it  for  variety  and  irregularity. 

From  very  primitive  American  times,  there  appear 
to  have  been  four  geographical  centres  in  this  vast 
area  toward  which  the  natives  have  been  inclined 

1  Some  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country,  p.  35. 

2  Id.,  p.  27. 


62  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

> 

to  gravitate.  These  naturally  comprise  the  four  most 
favorable  river  systems.  Here  life  seems  to  have 
been  most  active  and  intense.  Here  ancient  ruins  are 
found  in  greatest  profusion.  While  circumstances 
have  led  to  the  establishment  of  villages  in  certain 
remote  and  isolated  corners  of  the  land,  the  rule  has 
been  to  build  them  within  the  basins  of  the  Rio 
Grande,  San  Juan,  Little  Colorado,  and  Gila. 

The  living  representatives  of  the  race  are  settled 
within  boundaries  conforming  somewhat  closely  to 
those  of  earlier  times ;  and  for  the  most  part  the  same 
agencies  have  prevailed  in  determining  location. 
Other  influences,  however,  like  shrinkage  in  popula 
tion,  increase  of  hostile  neighbors,  and  possible 
changes  in  physical  conditions  of  the  country  have 
caused,  through  the  long  centuries,  no  little  redistri 
bution  of  population  and  readjustment  of  pursuits. 

The  sedentary  Indians  of  this  Pueblo  country,  since 
far  remote  time,  have  been  separated  into  three  prin 
cipal  areas;  while  roving  and  semi-sedentary  ones 
have  encompassed  the  whole  region,  and,  without 
being  seriously  molested,  have  traversed  the  interven 
ing  lands  and  sometimes  securely  held  possession  of 
them,  remaining  a  constant  menace  to  the  settled 
groups. 

To-day  in  the  whole  southwest  country  the  number 
of  natives  and  of  native  villages  along  the  Rio  Grande 
exceeds  that  of  all  other  Pueblo  regions  combined. 
Beginning  in  the  north -central  part  of  New  Mexico, 
and  reaching  southward  for  about  a  hundred  miles 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          63 

along  the  banks  of  this  Euphrates  of  the  Southwest 
and  the  lower  waters  of  its  diminutive  tributaries,  are 
sixteen  pueblos,  which  lie  in  the  following  order: 
Taos,  Picuris,  San  Juan,  Santa  Clara,  San  Ildefonso, 
Pojoaque,  Nambe,  Tesuque,  Cochiti,  Jemez,  Sia,  San 
Domingo,  San  Felipe,  Santa  Ana,  Sandia,  and  Isleta. 
About  fifty  miles  almost  directly  west  of  Isleta  and 
in  a  southwesterly  direction  from  the  above-men 
tioned  villages  as  a  group,  are  the  two  pueblos, 
Laguna  and  Acoma,  which  would  naturally  be  in 
cluded  in  this  Rio  Grande  system.  Beyond  these,  just 
on  the  western  border  of  New  Mexico  within  the 
basin  of  the  Little  Colorado,  is  the  pueblo  of  Zuni, 
historically  the  most  important  of  all  the  villages  of 
the  Southwest.  In  northeastern  Arizona,  upon  land 
lying  within  this  same  river  system,  is  the  noted 
province  of  Tusayan,  containing  the  Moki,  or,  to  use 
the  term  preferred  by  these  people  themselves  because 
more  complimentary  in  meaning,  the  Hopi  pueblo. 
The  total  population  of  these  sedentary  people  does 
not  much  exceed  ten  thousand,  and  is  to-day  —  what 
ever  it  formerly  may  have  been  —  not  nearly  so  large 
in  number  as  the  aggregate  of  non-sedentary  ones 
within  the  borders  of  the  Pueblo  territory.  In  fact 
the  village  Indians  are  surpassed  in  numbers  by  the 
Navahos  alone,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Apaches  and 
various  other  branches  of  the  race  that  have  homes 
all  about  them. 

The  Pueblo  Indians  do  not  speak  one  language  or 
dialect.    They  represent  several  different  stems,  and 


64  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

.yet  circumstances  have  made  them  one  people,  and 
made  them  singularly  alike.  Referring  to  the  fact 
that  they  are  not  members  of  the  same  stock,  Brinton 

i  writes :  "  This  proves  that  the  Pueblo  civilization  is 
not  due  to  any  one  unusually  gifted  lineage,  but  was 
a  local  product,  developed  in  independent  tribes  by 
the  natural  facilities  offered  by  the  locality.  It  is  a 
spontaneous  production  of  the  soil,  climate,  and  con 
ditions,  which  were  usually  favorable  to  agricultural 

V  and  sedentary  occupations,  and  prompted  various 
tribes  to  adopt  them."  1 

It  has  been  suggested,  that  far  back  in  the  morning 
of  their  tribal  life,  all  these  people  may  possibly  have 
been  members  of  one  great  stock,  presumably  the 
Shoshonean,  and  that,  while  topographical  similar 
ities  encouraged  similar  customs  and  manners,  the 
necessity  for  separating  into  small  bands  and  the 
long  continuance  of  forced  isolation,  brought  forth 
the  present  groups  of  dialects.  The  question  is  inter 
esting  to  the  philologist  but  not  vital  to  our  inquiries. 
Whatever  the  origin,  there  are  to-day  at  least  four 
easily  distinguishable  linguistic  stocks.  The  Moki 
villages  with  one  exception  are  Shoshonean;  the 
Zunian  people  are  all  confined  to  the  one  pueblo  of 
Zuni;  the  Tanoan  stock  comprises  the  villages  of 
Taos,  Picuris,  San  Juan,  Santa  Clara,  San  Ildefonso, 
Nambe,  Pojoaque,  Tesuque,  Jemez,  Sandia,  Isleta, 
and  Tewa  of  the  Moki  country;  the  Keresen  stock 
embraces  the  villages  of  Cochiti,  San  Domingo,  Sia, 
1  American  Race,  p.  116. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         65 

Santa  Ana,  San  Felipe,  Laguna  and  Acoma.  As  to 
number  of  occupants  to  a  village,  the  pueblos  differ 
from  less  than  a  score  to  about  two  thousand. 

In  this  territory  the  Pueblo  Indians  have  lived  for 
centuries,  and,  while  we  may  have  the  kindest  feeling 
toward  the  land  and  its  primitive  inhabitants,  the 
obvious  lack  of  conveniences  suggests  an  inquiry  as 
to  what  could  induce  them  to  take  up  their  residences 
in  such  a  region.  In  searching  for  an  answer  we  are 
debarred  from  turning  to  oracles,  musty  manuscripts, 
coins,  clay  tablets,  or  monumental  inscriptions.  Our 
informants  must  be  principally  legend  and  conjecture, 
along  with  meagre  contributions  from  rude  architect 
ure,  crude  symbols,  weapons,  and  utensils.  There 
must  have  been  weighty  reasons  for  building  homes 
in  such  a  land.  It  would  seem  difficult  to  find  a  more 
unfavorable  region  —  certainly  many  more  unfavor 
able  regions  —  in  America.  In  nearly  every  other 
section,  several  of  the  great  food  products  could  be 
easily  obtained.  Starting  from  this  Pueblo  country 
and  traveling  in  almost  any  direction,  fish,  game, 
great  stretches  of  fertile  soil,  indigenous  vegetables, 
fruits,  nuts,  and  plenty  of  good  water, —  almost  all 
of  these  would  be  found.  Here  a  scarcity  of  nearly 
the  whole  of  them  has  evidently  existed  time  out  of 
mind.  So  we  may  reasonably  press  the  inquiry  — 
why  these  people  have  chosen  this  part  of  the  New 
World  for  their  permanent  abode.  It  does  not  seem 
possible  that  aborigines,  poorly  prepared  as  they  were 
for  combating  the  hostile  forces  of  nature,  would 
5 


66  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

settle  here  from  choice,  when  other  parts  of  the 
country  offered  so  many  greater  advantages. 

Dwelling  in  unfavorable  localities,  however,  is  not 
uncommon  even  among  civilized  people.  Often,  in 
deed,  do  we  find  the  best  types  of  the  race  living  in 
disadvantageous  retreats,  putting  up  with  great  incon 
veniences,  suffering  hardships,  exposing  themselves 
to  unfavorable  climates,  and  even  periling  their  lives. 
The  motives  are  numerous.  Wealth,  health,  fame,  or 
duty  may  prompt  them.  How  often  men  leave  their 
old  homes  merely  to  shun  disagreeable  neighbors. 
How  often  we  find  whole  communities  and  colonies 
seeking  other  lands  to  free  themselves  from  persecu 
tion.  For  very  praiseworthy  reasons  the  Puritans 
came  to  an  uninviting  region  of  the  New  World. 
Venice,  that  romantic  and  interesting  city  out  in  the 
sea,  was  founded  in  the  fifth  century  by  people  who 
sought  those  miasmal  swamps  for  safety  from  the 
murderous  Huns,  sweeping  over  northern  Italy. 
The  castles  of  the  Middle  Ages  were  placed  on  hills, 
cragged  rocks,  peninsulas,  or  in  marshes  for  purposes 
of  protection. 

Among  less  civilized  people  there  are  examples 
equally  or  even  more  striking.  The  mountains,  des 
erts,  islands,  and  forests  of  earth  have  provided 
places  of  seclusion  for  millions  of  refugees.  Caves 
and  eminences  are  constantly  serving  the  same  pur 
pose.  In  several  lands,  but  especially  in  Switzerland, 
are  relics  of  people  who  lived  in  villages  built  out 
over  the  waters  of  the  lakes.  The  dwellings  were  set 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         67 

on  wooden  piles,  the  oldest  of  which,  at  least,  were 
cut,  trimmed,  and  sharpened  with  stone  implements; 
and  it  is  not  simply  the  fact  that  these  large  timbers 
were  hacked  down,  dragged  to  the  water,  placed  in 
perpendicular  positions,  and  driven  into  the  muddy 
bottoms  of  these  lakes,  it  is  amazing  that  the  number 
of  the  piles  is  so  large,  running  up  as  it  does  into  the 
many  thousands,  and  incidentally  proving  a  very 
extensive  communal  life.  The  labor  of  constructing 
abodes  in  such  places  was  unquestionably  prodigious, 
but  the  occupants  underwent  it  all,  in  order,  evidently, 
to  make  for  themselves  a  refuge  from  their  enemies. 
Into  the  forbidding  Pueblo  country,  offshoots  of 
the  aborigines  came,  and  doubtless  for  some  of  the 
same  reasons  as  those  just  noted.  Among  the  native 
tribes,  before  the  advent  of  the  white  man  whose 
presence  tended  to  unite  them  against  him,  there  was 
eternal  strife.  The  contests  were  frequently  wars  of 
extermination.  The  weakest  must  flee,  or  be  butch 
ered.  Predatory  bands,  sometimes  for  mere  sake  of 
conquest,  sometimes  on  account  of  lack  of  provisions 
at  home,  fell  upon  weaker  neighbors,  and  drove  them 
out  of  the  country.  The  refugees  in  order  to  maintain 
existence  must  conquer  some  still  weaker  neighbor,  or 
go  to  unoccupied  land.  The  latter  course  was  evi 
dently  the  one  pursued  by  the  Pueblos.  Doubtless  on 
account  of  inferiority  of  numbers  or  lack  of  skill  in 
fighting,  they  sought  this  region  for  quiet  and  safety. 
Significant  in  this  connection  are  the  words  of  Rob 
inson,  who,  writing  about  the  wild  sheep  compelled  to 


68  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

remain  on  the  peaks  of  mountains  because  of  fierce 
animals  below,  subjoins  this  remark :  "  Many  a 
human  refugee  hunted  by  a  human  beast  of  prey  has 
had  to  do  the  same."  l 

The  Pueblos  have  numerous  traditions  of  wars 
between  themselves  and  the  Indians  of  the  plains. 
Many  of  them,  even  in  these  days  when  they  are 
under  the  protection  of  the  United  States  Govern 
ment,  have  an  instinctive  dread  of  the  Apaches  and 
Navahos. 

The  country  they  sought  offered  at  least  two 
advantages.  In  the  first  place,  on  account  of  scarcity 
of  booty  it  is  not  a  land  that  would  attract  roving, 
plundering  tribes  in  great  numbers;  and,  in  the  sec 
ond  place,  it  offers  many  adequate  retreats L.jJL.by 
chance  enemies  do  appear.  Hostile  bands,  coming  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  Pueblo  country  and  knowing  the 
hardships  to  be  endured  and  the  little  to  be  gained, 
would  hesitate  long  before  entering  upon  an  inland 
expedition. 

,  In  drawing  near  to  this  land  of  the  Pueblos,  among 

the  first  objects  that  attract  our  attention  are  the 
habitations. 

It  is  obvious  that  architecture  all  over  the  world 
is  planned  and  built,  as  a  rule,  in  accordance  with 
physical  necessities  and  the  law  of  natural  supply  and 
demand.  In  old  Egypt,  stone  of  excellent  quality  was 
found  in  great  abundance  along  the  banks  of  the  Nile, 
and  invited  the  construction  of  pillars,  obelisks, 

1  Wild  Traits  of  Tame  Animals,  p.  165. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         69 

temples,  tombs,  and  pyramids;  hence  the  nation 
became  noted  for  massive  structures.  Good  clay  for 
brick  was  also  plentiful,  and  so  the  homes  of  the 
common  people  were  made  of  that  material.  Many 
of  the  still  humbler  dwellings  were  formed  of  rushed 
growing  along  the  river.  Over  in  the  valley  of  the 
Euphrates,  where  there  is  no  stone,  not  only  the 
buildings  of  the  common  people  but  also  the  palaces 
and  temples  are  built  of  brick;  and,  on  account  of 
scarcity  of  wood  for  baking  the  clay,  the  bricks  are 
simply  sun-dried.  On  the  eastern  coast  of  Asia  and 
the  adjoining  islands,  the  homes  are  constructed  of 
wood,  and  are  one  story  in  height  in  order  to  with 
stand  terrestrial  disturbances.  On  this  point  Hubbard 
says :  "  Some  writers  criticise  the  houses  of  the  Jap 
anese,  because  they  are  built  of  such  frail  materials 
and  so  loosely  put  together,  forgetting  that  these 
typical  Japanese  homes,  though  entirely  unsuited  to 
our  life,  are  better  fitted  for  earthquake-shaken  Japan 
than  buildings  of  wood  and  stone."  1  "  Climate  and 
shape  of  country,"  says  Samson, ."give  laws  for 
building.  Houses  of  India  are  surrounded  by  open 
verandas  for  shade,  .  .  .  Swiss  cottages  have  sharp, 
peaked  roofs  and  projecting  eaves  to  cut  and  fling 
aside  the  falling  snow ;  and  on  sunny  plains  dwellings 
have  flat  roofs  as  promenades  in  the  cool  evening 
breeze."2 

In  northern  Europe  the  buildings,  especially  the 

1  Smithsonian  Report,  1895,  p.  675. 

a  Art  Criticism  (Abridged),  book  iv,  chap,  i,  p.  200. 


70  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

churches,  are  made  with  very  sharply  pitched  roofs 
for  dispelling  the  snow,  and  with  very  large  windows 
for  admitting  as  much  light  and  warmth  as  possible. 
Farther  south,  on  the  snowless  and  rainless  belt, 
church  structures  have  flat  roofs;  and  the  windows 
are  small  so  as  to  lessen  heat  and  glare. 

Among  primitive  people  the  nature  of  the  country 
strikingly  suggests  the  nature  of  the  homes.  Many 
are  unique,  others  peculiar.  Some  are  curiously  and 
ingeniously  constructed  to  secure  ventilation,  others 
to  keep  out  heat,  cold,  wind,  rain,  or  snow,  others  still 
to  guard  against  poisonous  lizards,  snakes,  and  kin 
dred  crawling  animals.  Some  are  built  in  trees  to 
avoid  fierce  beasts,  others  on  posts  with  circular 
plates  intervening  to  keep  away  rats  and  other 
rodents. 

The  abodes  of  the  primitive  American  race  have 
been  fashioned  to  meet  many  diverse  surroundings. 
In  the  far  north  the  tribes  seem  to  have  lived  always 
in  snow-dwellings.  Brick,  stone,  wood, —  all  these 
have  been  but  scantily  supplied  and  in  many  places 
entirely  prohibited  by  nature;  but  the  very  ice  that 
has  kept  the  country  in  a  state  of  desolation  serves  to 
furnish  walls  and  roofs  for  the  strange  habitations 
that  keep  the  people  from  perishing  by  cold.  In  New 
York  a  fair  protection  from  snow  and  rain  was  the 
"  long  house,"  built  of  bark  and  logs.  In  the  Gulf 
region  were  huts  plastered  with  grass.  On  the  tree 
less  western  plains,  wigwams  of  skins,  holes  in  the 
ground,  or  hovels  of  sod  gave  shelter  and  protection. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         71 

On  the  banks  of  the  upper  Missouri,  wood  was 
scarce,  hence  round  houses,  with  framework  of  poles 
and  walls  of  clay,  were  constructed.  In  Kentucky, 
the  natural  caves  served  as  ready-made  homes.  In 
Brazil,  a  rude  roof,  shingled  with  palm  leaves,  was 
all  that  the  climate  demanded.  In  Central  America, 
interlacing  maize-stalks,  plastered  with  mud,  formed 
the  walls,  and  a  thin  layer  of  straw  was  sufficient  for 
the  roofs.  In  Mexico,  cane  branches,  mud,  and  pal 
metto  leaves  furnished  a  house  sufficiently  substantial 
for  that  latitude. 

The  builders  of  European  castles  in  the  turbulent 
Middle  Ages  were  hardly  more  thoughtful  and  cir 
cumspect  in  the  selection  of  sites  and  the  adoption  of 
plans  for  the  safety  of  their  inhabitants,  than  have 
been  many  of  the  aboriginal  tribes  of  the  New  World. 
Take  for  example  the  Hurons.  The  advantage  of 
situation  seems  to  have  been  with  them  a  matter  of 
special  consideration.  In  order  to  make  themselves 
safe  as  possible  from  enemies,  they  selected  for  their 
centralized  homes  a  small  peninsula  on  the  south 
eastern  shore  of  Georgian  Bay —  a  large  sheet  of 
water  extending  eastward  out  of  Lake  Huron.  This 
tongue  of  land,  projecting  northward,  was  enclosed 
on  the  west,  north,  and  east  by  Nottawassaga, 
Georgian,  and  Matchedash  bays,  the  Severn  River 
and  Lake  Simcoe,  in  the  order  named.  The  peninsula, 
generally  speaking,  was  flat  and  deeply  indented.  It 
was  interspersed  with  lakes,  and  intersected  with 
sluggish  rivers;  and  its  contour  was  of  such  irregu- 


72  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

lar,  peculiar  shape  that  the  waters  of  these  various 
winding  rivers  were  poured  out  toward  every  point 
of  the  compass. 

This  little  territory  therefore  exhibited  many  pro 
tective  features.  Upon  the  hilltops,  at  the  confluences 
of  rivers,  on  islands,  within  safe  retreats  on  the 
shores  of  lakes,  and  in  various  other  naturally 
favored  nooks  and  corners  of  the  .peninsula,  the 
habitations  were  placed.  To  make  them  still  more 
defensible,  deep  ditches  were  dug  to  enclose  some  of 
the  villages.  Banks  of  earth  were  thrown  up,  and 
trees  were  hacked  down  with  stone  hatchets,  or 
burned  down  with  encircling  fires  built  about  the  base, 
and  finally  swung  around  into  place  to  form  rude 
fortifications. 

This  whole  country  about  the  lakes  seemed  to 
bring  out  a  peculiar  order  of  house-architecture 
modeled  more  or  less  on  the  "  long  house." 

As  we  have  already  seen,  the  Pueblos  evidently 
came  to  the  Southwest  for  safety.  In  the  vicinity  of 
streams  or  water-holes,  they  built  their  strange 
homes.  In  localities  difficult  to  approach,  far  up  the 
perpendicular  walls  they  climbed,  and  there  erected 
their  curious  buildings  in  nooks  and  corners  of  the 
cliffs.  Suggestive  building  material  was  at  hand. 
There  was  stone  suitable  to  the  purpose.  There  was 
also  adobe  clay,  a  sticky,  cement-like  substance, 
excellent  as  mortar  for  their  rude  masonry.  With 
rough  stone  implements  they  hacked  niches  for 
footholds  into  the  faces  of  the  cliffs,  and  climbed 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         73 

up  with  their  loads  of  adobe  earth.  For  the  chief 
wall-making  material,  they  went  to  the  beds  of 
streams,  and  gathered  fragments  of  rock  of  various 
shapes  and  sizes,  or  broke  pieces  from  the  adjoining 
cliffs  and  worked  them  into  convenient  form.  Some 
times,  from  the  soft  sandstone  or  the  brittle  volcanic 
rock,  they  fashioned  rectangular  blocks.  Again,  if 
no  suitable  stones  were  at  hand,  and  adobe  clay 
could  be  easily  secured,  bricks  were  made  of  this, 
dried  in  the  sun,  and  then  carried  up  to  the  shelvy 
rocks  on  which  the  houses  were  to  perch. 

In  some  localities  excavations  were  made  into  the 
sides  of  the  cliffs.  With  their  bungling  stone  imple 
ments,  they  hacked  into  the  sandstone  or  volcanic 
rock  and  scooped  out  their  rude  cells.  Into  these  the 
families  of  the  cliff-dwellers  went  like  bears  to  their 
caves;  and  in  these  they  lived,  loved,  conversed, 
planned,  disputed,  feasted,  jested,  suffered,  starved, 
and  died.  There  are  the  rooms  to-day,  silent  witnesses 
of  a  strange  primitive  life. 

Entrances  were  made  from  the  faces  of  the  cliffs, 
and  were  purposely  difficult  to  approach.  The  shapes 
and  sizes  of  the  doorways,  if  such  these  holes  may  be 
called,  conformed  to  the  tastes  and  conveniences  of 
the  master  of  the  household,  who  was  also  the  car 
penter,  or,  more  strictly,  the  mason.  They  were  two  or 
three  feet  in  diameter,  and  many  of  them  much 
larger,  so  that  a  person  could  very  easily  crawl 
through,  and  in  many  cases  could  enter  by  simply 
stooping.  In  shape  they  are  found  as  circular,  square, 


74  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

oval,  or  oblong.  One  popular  form  was  that  of  the 
Egyptian,  or  tau,  cross,  which  enabled  a  person,  by 
slightly  stooping,  to  enter  easily  with  a  load  on  his 
back  or  in  his  arms.  Seen  at  a  distance,  the  entrances 
appear  not  unlike  the  holes  left  by  sparrows  as  open 
ings  to  their  nests  under  the  eaves  of  a  barn.  Internal 
passages  leading  from  room  to  room  are  seldom 
found.  Communication  between  families  was  evi 
dently  intended  to  be  only  by  way  of  front  entrances. 

The  ceiling  of  each  room  is  dome-shaped,  and,  as  a 
rule,  is  high  enough  to  give  standing  room  to  an 
ordinary  person;  though  in  numerous  cases  excep 
tions  are  noticeable.  In  fact  in  many  a  room  the 
distance  from  the  highest  point  of  the  ceiling  to  the 
floor  is  not  more  than  three  or  four  feet.  The  floors, 
which  of  course  are  circular  in  form,  are  large 
enough  to  allow  the  members  of  an  ordinary  family 
to  stretch  at  full  length. 

Attempts  were  made  by  the  occupants  of  these 
rooms  to  preserve  cleanliness.  For  example,  after  the 
walls  had  become  thoroughly  begrimed  with  smoke 
from  the  fire,  which  was  kept  in  one  corner,  they 
were  coated  with  a  layer  of  adobe  earth.  In  some  of 
the  rooms  as  many  as  a  half-dozen  strata  may  be 
found  on  the  walls,  the  intense  black  soot  alternating 
with  the  brown  clay.  The  smoke  problem,  in  the 
absence  of  chimneys,  and  with  the  impossibility, 
or,  at  least,  inconvenience  of  making  holes  through 
the  ceiling,  must  have  been  serious.  When  safety 
allowed  it,  probably  fires  were  built  outside. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         75 

Into  many  of  the  walls  and  floors,  nooks  were  dug, 
as  receptacles  for  their  few  simple  household  uten 
sils.  Some  were  made  large  enough  to  contain  several 
bushels  of  grain.  Often  they  were  made  for  a  less 
cheerful  purpose.  They  became  repositories  for  the 
dead. 

Beneath  the  doorways,  along  the  sides  of  the  cliffs, 
generally  run  narrow,  irregular,  and  oftentimes  dan 
gerous  paths,  connecting  one  cave-house  with  another. 
In  many  places  the  track  simply  consists  of  a  series  of 
notches  into  which  the  feet  and  hands  are  placed  in 
walking  and  crawling.  Where  the  rock  is  soft,  and 
the  paths  have  been  in  use  for  a  long  time,  footprints 
have  been  worn  to  the  depth  of  eight  or  ten  inches. 

Into  the  rock,  directly  above  the  doorways  on  the 
outside,  deep,  narrow,  horizontal  holes  were  often 
made.  They  were  used  evidently  for  supporting  poles, 
over  the  projecting  ends  of  which  skins  could  be 
thrown  for  awnings ;  for  the  sun  beats  down  fiercely 
upon  the  cliffs  of  those  canons  and  mesas.  Somewhat 
similar  holes,  cut  into  the  perpendicular  surface,  are 
found  elsewhere  than  over  the  doorways;  and  these 
were  used  for  a  variety  of  purposes  connected  with 
household  affairs,  such  as  supporting  pegs  for  pieces 
of  meat,  garments,  utensils,  and  the  like. 

The  water  problem  with  these  people  was  always 
vital;  hence  we  find,  in  many  different  stages  of 
preservation,  rude  cisterns,  or  reservoirs,  built  where 
they  might  catch  the  snow  and  rain.  In  some  locali 
ties,  towers,  built  of  stone  and  adobe  clay,  were 


76  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

placed  out  on  projecting  rocks,  from  which  an 
approaching  enemy  might  be  spied. 

These  cliff  -dwellers^  who  were_formerly  thought 
to  be  a  different  people,  are-to-day  generally  consid 
ered  the  ancestors  of  the  Pueblo  Indians.  Indeed, 
the  latter  speak  of  them  as  such.  Clothing,  food, 
weapons,  utensils,  ornaments,  architecture,  and  mode 
of  living, —  all  seem  to  corroborate  this  theory.  It 
is  fortunate  that  in  the  dry  atmosphere  of  the  country 
not  only  the  stone  and  bone  implements  and  pottery, 
but  even  the  food  and  fabrics  are  preserved  for  com 
parison  with  those  of  our  own  times. 

Having  noticed  the  homes  of  the  cliff-dwellers,  let 
us  turn  to  the  habitations  of  the  people  of  to-day. 
The  pueblos,  or  communal  houses,  while  differing 
very  materially  from  the  cavate  dwellings,  are  similar 
to  the  cliff-buildings,  with  changes  to  suit  new  con 
ditions.  They  are  now,  generally  speaking,  what  they 
were  when  the  Spaniards  first  visited  the  country. 
Ruins  in  all  stages  of  decay  are  found  scattered  about 
in  profusion.  Cushing 1  thinks  that  the  original 
structure  of  the  Pueblos  consisted  of  a  simple,  iso 
lated,  adobe  hovel.  Oppressed  by  some  enemy,  the 
scattered  residents  congregated  for  safety  among  the 
cliffs.  Afterward,  when  the  enemy  had  withdrawn, 
they  returned  from  their  high-perched  homes  to  the 
plains  or  foot-hills ;  but,  as  a  matter  of  prudence,  they 
still  kept  up  the  communal  way  of  building  and  living. 

1  Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  p. 
473,  et  seq. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          77 

The  same  kinds  of  material  and  the  same  general 
plans  of  construction  are  found  to-day  in  the  cliff- 
ruins  above,  and  in  the  modern  pueblos  below. 

The  common  building  material  of  the  country  has 
been  already  noticed.  Adobe  clay  is  the  staple.  The 
atmosphere  is  so  dry  and  the  rains  are  so  infrequent 
that  this  sticky  earth,  pressed  or  moulded  into  rec 
tangular  blocks,  with  or  without  straw,  and  dried  in 
the  sun,  is  safe  and  desirable.  The  buildings  made 
from  it  are  warm  in  winter  and  cool  in  summer. 
They  are  easily  constructed,  easily  repaired,  very 
inexpensive,  and  in  a  dry  atmosphere  very  durable. 

The  adoption  of  adobe  has  not  been  confined  to  the 
natives.  It  has  been  the  chief  building  material  of  the 
Mexicans  and  Anglo-Saxons.  Nor  has  it  been  re 
stricted  to  the  homes,  and  other  simple  structures.  Its 
increasing  use  has  kept  pace  with  the  march  of  civil 
ization,  and  it  has  become  the  principal  product  in 
the  construction  of  the  stores,  railroad  depots,  hotels, 
chapels,  churches,  and  government  buildings. 

When  the  designs  or  plans  of  the  pueblos  are 
closely  studied,  the  controlling  idea,  as  in  case  of 
the  cliff-dwellings,  seems  to  be  regard  for  safety.  A 
rocky  eminence,  a  well-sheltered  retreat,  a  broad  ex 
panse  of  country  over  which  the  eye  can  easily 
sweep, —  each  of  these  has  its  advantages. 

A  pueblo  consists  of  a  single  house  with  many 
rooms,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  of  many  houses 
united  by  walls  into  a  mass  of  totally  distinct  apart 
ments.  The  arrangement  —  perhaps  more  properly 


78  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

the  disarrangement  —  of  many  of  them  may  be  suf 
ficiently  imagined,  on  a  small  scale,  by  thinking  of 
a  disorderly  pile  of  dry-goods  boxes,  such  as  are 
often  seen  in  the  yard  of  an  ordinary  country  retail 
store.  A  typical  village,  however,  is  designed  with 
more  care.  Think  of  a  long  row  of  flat-roofed 
houses,  one  story  in  height  and  with  continuous 
walls,  placed  in  the  form  of  a  rectangle  about  a 
large  court.  Into  this  court  there  is  but  a  single 
narrow  entrance  somewhere  between  two  of  the 
buildings.  Each  apartment,  or  house,  or  room,  what 
ever  it  may  be  called,  is  completely  closed,  with  the 
exception  of  a  hole  in  the  roof,  which  is  reached  from 
the  yard  by  means  of  a  ladder  or  a  notched  pole. 
The  passage  is  generally  through  the  portion  of  the 
roof  which  is  nearest  to  the  court  —  that  is,  closest 
to  the  interior  wall. 

Place  another  chain  of  houses  exactly  over  the 
ones  already  made,  keeping  the  outside  walls  con 
tinuous,  but  not  allowing  the  front  of  the  upper 
buildings  to  extend  in  toward  the  court  quite  over 
the  front  of  those  beneath.  Our  pueblo  has  become 
two  stories  in  height,  and  is  completely  surrounded 
by  a  formidable  wall,  except  at  the  point  of  passage 
into  the  yard.  The  space  of  roof  left  uncovered 
forms  a  small  yard  for  the  upper  and  shorter  build 
ing,  and  also  admits  light  to  the  room  below  through 
the  roof -entrance.  Another  story  may  be  added  by 
an  additional  chain  of  houses,  only  each  building 
must  be  a  little  shorter  than  the  one  below  in  order 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES          79 

to  allow  the  residents  of  the  apartment  underneath 
an  opening  for  exits  and  entrances.  Thus  several 
stories  may  be  built  up.  For  each  room  two  ladders, 
9*  -notched  sticks,  are  required  —  one  for  a  passage 
'on  the  outside  up  to  the  roof,  the  other  for  reach 
ing  the  floor  within.  Not  a  piece  of  iron  or  steel  is 
used  in  the  construction  of  these  apartments.  Stone, 
clay,  and  wood  are  the  three  chief  components.  The 
implements  used  are  of  stone,  wood,  or  bone.  The 
whole  structure  is  without  nails,  screws,  bolts,  wire, 
clamps,  hinges,  staples,  and  the  like, —  that  is,  such 
as  are  used  by  us.  Withes  of  native  twigs,  ropes  of 
grass,  bark,  or  hair,  and  thongs  of  skin  or  tendon 
are  employed  in  the  simple  mechanical  arts  of  these 
people. 

From  a  distance,  the  whole  structure,  with  its 
swarm  of  inhabitants,  invisible,  congregated  in  their 
mud  rooms,  resembles  an  immense  square  box.  One 
can  see  from  the  outside  no  doors,  no  windows,  no 
openings  of  any  kind,  except  the  one  narrow  en 
trance  through  which  an  enemy  must  force  his 
way,  and  probably  encounter  many  obstructions  be 
fore  reaching  the  court;  and  this  passage  would 
probably  prove  very  dark  and  dangerous  to  a  foe.1 
The  inhabitants  at  night  collect  their  property  into 
the  yard,  and  drive  thither  their  domestic  animals, 
if  by  chance  they  have  any.  Let  us  ever  have  in 

1  G.  H.  Bancroft  speaks  of  pueblos  "  having  no  entrance 
on  the  ground  floor."  History  of  the  United  States  (Cente 
nary  edition),  vol.  i,  p.  37. 


8o  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

mind  that  the  donkeys,  horses,  goats,  cows,  pigs, 
and  sheep  are  the  gifts  of  the  white  man  to  the 
aborigines ;  and  it  is  pre-Caucasian  times  that  should 
be  kept  chiefly  in  thought.  Once  inside  the  court  a 
foe  is  still  placed  at  many  disadvantages.  At  night 
the  ladders,  or  climbing-poles,  are  drawn  up;  and 
for  an  enemy  to  attempt  to  crawl  upon  the  roof  and 
then  to  pass  on  down  through  the  hatchway  would 
be  hazardous. 

Since  the  buildings  are  arranged  m  terraces,  when 
ever  there  is  a  feast,  a  dance,  or  other  amusement 
in  the  yard,  the  inmates  of  each  apartment  have 
simply  to  climb  up  through  the  roofs  to  witness 
what  is  going  on. 

Such  is  the  ideal  village  built  in  a  time  when  the 
Pueblos  are  harassed  by  roving  tribes  of  enemies. 
The  variations  from  this,  however,  are  very  numer 
ous.  Indeed,  one  could  not  find  to-day  in  all  the 
Southwest  a  structure  that  would  answer  this  de 
scription  in  every  particular.  With  the  element  of 
danger  removed  to  a  certain  extent,  many  varieties 
of  house-construction  appear.  In  fact  the  ground 
plans  of  the  villages  are  as  various  as  a  group  of 
written  Chinese  characters,  and  silhouettes  of  them, 
thrown  upon  the  sky,  present,  from  the  surrounding 
plains,  forms  as  curious  as  the  mountain  peaks  be 
yond.  Often  a  pueblo  grows  into  existence  appar 
ently  with  as  little  regard  for  pathway  arrangement 
as  there  would  be  if  all  of  the  little,  adobe,  family 
structures  of  the  village  had  been  dropped  at  hap- 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES      81 

hazard.  Sometimes  fairly  well-regulated  avenues 
and  narrow  foot-paths  lead  into  the  centre  of  the 
village  from  all  points  of  the"  compass.  Often  the 
large  court  is  cut  up  into  several  small  ones  by 
blocks  and  rows  of  buildings.  In  some  of  the  greater 
pueblos,  for  example,  Isleta,  Zuni,  and  San  Domingo, 
there  are  so  many  winding  passages  a  stranger  might 
easily  lose  his  way  in  walking  through  them. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  villages  of  the  whole 
region  is  that  of  .Taos.  It  is  the  most  northerly  of 
all  the  pueblos  —  situated  about  twenty  miles  east 
of  the  Rio  Grande  and  about  the  same  distance 
below  the  point  where  this  erratic  river  crosses  the 
Colorado  boundary  line.  The  pueblo  consists  of  twin 
buildings  five  or  six  stories  in  height,  each  made 
throughout  of  adobe  clay  and  built  in  the  form  of  a 
pyramid.  A  pretty  little  mountain  stream  flows  be 
tween  the  two  main  structures,  and  a  formidable  wall 
of  cobblestone  and  adobe,  built  since  the  Spaniards 
came  into  the  country,  encloses  them.  Of  late  several 
dwellings  have  been  built  out  away  from  the  two 
main  apartment  houses.  Of  course  these  small,  iso 
lated,  one-story  buildings  are  more  convenient  in 
many  respects  than  the  upper  rooms  in  the  larger 
structures,  which  can  be  reached  only  by  climbing 
over  terraces  and  ladders.  To  people  accustomed  to 
stairs  and  elevators,  however,  the  inconveniences  of 
running  up  over  roofs  and  down  through  hatchways, 
on  ladders  or  notched  logs,  appear  much  more  serious 
than  they  really  are  to  people  accustomed  to  such 


82  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

modes  of  travel.  Indeed,  one  is  surprised  at  the  ease 
and  equipoise  with  which  a  woman,  with  two  or  three 
jars  full  of  water,  resting  one  above  the  other  on  her 
head,  and  her  hands  occupied  in  holding  her  blanket 
about  her,  will  carelessly  trip  up  and  down  over  the 
ladder-rounds ;  and  men  with  both  hands  loaded  with 
food  and  fuel  will  ascend  and  descend  perfectly  un 
conscious  of  any  acrobatic  demonstration;  and  chil 
dren  and  dogs  will  chase  one  another  up  and  down,  in 
and  out,  like  squirrels  in  tree-tops. 

The  most  noteworthy  consideration  is  that  what 
ever  variety  in  shapes  and  sizes  may  be  found  in 
occupied  or  abandoned  pueblos,  cliff-structures,  or 
cavate  rooms,  the  one  distinguishing  feature  of  the 
dwellings  of  the  Southwest  has  been  the  provision 
made  for  defense  against  marauders.  The  continu 
ous  arrangement  of  the  buildings  in  rows  and  the 
adjustment  of  them  about  the  court,  the  location 
of  the  villages  on  eminences  or  in  nooks  and  corners 
difficult  of  approach,  the  terrace  idea,  the  entrances 
through  roofs,  the  high,  thick,  solid,  continuous, 
outside  walls, —  all  these  point  to  notions  of  safety,, 

In  addition  to  being  constructed  as  a  defense 
against  wild  beasts  and  men,  the  pueblos  were  built 
with  an  eye  to  economy.  A  cluster  of  apartments  does 
not  require,  in  building,  so  much  labor,  material,  or* 
space,  as  each  standing  isolated.  In  an  age  when 
wood  is  cut  by  means  of  stone  axes,  and  no  draft  ani 
mals  relieve  man's  burdens,  it  is  necessary  to  lessen 
as  far  as  possible  the  expenditure  of  human  energy. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         83 

Other  circumstances  contribute  to  the  question  of 
plan  and  locality  of  a  village.  There  must  be  water. 
In  many  places,  it  is  always  scarce;  in  others,  it  is 
scarce  at  certain  times;  in  others,  it  can  never  be 
found  near  at  hand  without  digging  more  deeply 
into  the  earth  than  the  defective  implements  of  the 
aborigines  are  fitted  for  penetrating.  The  supply  is 
obtained  for  the  most  part  at  springs  and  streams. 
Proximity  to  water  in  the  Pueblo  country  does  not 
mean  what  it  does  in  most  of  other  localities.  To 
walk  a  few  rods  to  obtain  it  is  considered  something 
of  a  drudgery  among  civilized  peasantry,  but  to  the 
Pueblo  it  is  hardly  more  than  a  pleasure  trip.  The 
distance  of  a  mile  is  considered  not  a  very  great 
hardship.  With  immense  jars  on  their  heads,  the 
Moki  women  uncomplainingly  go  to  springs  two  or 
three  miles  away.  Of  course  there  must  be  a  limit 
to  the  distance.  Water  will  tend  to  draw  the  pueblo 
near  to  it,  while  security  will  keep  the  homes  on 
some  spot,  difficult  for  an  enemy  to  approach,  even 
if  at  a  long  distance  from  wells  or  streams. 

The  people  of  the  village  must  also  have  wood. 
The  roofs  of  the  apartments  are  made  of  poles,  laid 
to  reach  from  wall  to  wall;  these  in  turn  are  cov 
ered  with  wicker-work,  consisting  usually  of  wooden 
branches  and  twigs;  and  these,  finally,  are  over 
spread  with  a  thick  layer  of  mud. 

They  must  have  wood  also,  with  which  to  cook 
their  food  and  for  producing  warmth  in  winter. 
Like  water,  it  is  scarce,  and,  like  water,  a  small  quan- 


84  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

tity  will  go  a  long  way,  but  it  cannot  be  dispensed 
with  entirely.  It  is  brought  a  half-dozen  miles  on  the 
backs  of  men,  and,  in  this  age  of  donkeys,  is  borne  by 
these  misused  but  useful  and  patient  beasts,  thirty  or 
forty. 

The  house-heating  problem  appears  also  in  another 
aspect.  Fewkes  points  out  the  disposition  of  home- 
builders  of  the  Moki  Pueblos  to  construct  their  dwell 
ings  so  that  they  will  not  shade  one  another.1  In  a 
land  of  scarcity  of  wood,  with  villages  perched  upon 
high,  cold,  and  wind-swept  rocks,  the  sun  as  a  source 
of  heat  is  not  to  be  slighted.  There  is  urgent  neces 
sity,  in  the  joining  of  new  apartments  to  the  old, 
that  neither  shall  suffer  for  sun  exposure;  conse 
quently  the  homes  are  arranged  in  long,  parallel 
rows  extending  north  and  south. 

The  situation  of  the  village  is  also  limited  in 
altitude.  Somewhere  between  four  thousand  and  nine 
thousand  feet  seems  the  most  advantageous  elevation. 
Below  that  the  climate  is  too  warm  and  unhealthful 
for  such  a  mode  of  life;  above  it  the  weather  is  too 
cold,  and  the  inconveniences  are  too  much  increased. 
The  actual  elevation  on  which  the  Pueblos  do  live 
is  about  six  or  seven  thousand. 

The  erection  of  homes  upon  mesas  has  another 
important  relation.  The  Babylonians  placed  their 
dwellings  upon  raised  platforms,  not  only  for  pur 
poses  of  defense  but  from  sanitary  considerations. 
The  pure  dry  atmosphere  of  our  southwestern  coun- 
1  American  Anthropologist,  n.  s.,  vol.  viii,  p.  88. 


PUEBLO  LANDS  AND  HOMES         85 

try  acts  as  a  scavenger.  If  one  of  these  pueblos 
could  be  removed,  just  as  it  stands,  to  a  less  ele 
vated  region  in  a  more  humid  climate,  all  the  inhabit 
ants  of  it  would  soon  die  of  pestilence.  The  streets, 
alleys,  and  yards  of  many  of  the  villages  are  con 
siderably  higher,  some  to  the  extent  of  several  feet, 
than  originally,  on  account  of  the  accumulation  of 
refuse.  A  general  carelessness  prevails  regarding 
ordinary  health  laws.  Hygeia  is  not  the  patron  god 
dess  of  Pueblo  land.  Dame  Nature  therefore  steps 
in  and  furnishes  a  system  of  pipeless  sewerage.  A 
life-sustaining  sun,  a  dry,  disinfecting  atmosphere, 
a  suitable  elevation, —  all  unite  to  foster  health  amid 
surroundings,  which  under  different  conditions  would 
produce  plagues  and  death.  After  the  old  pueblo 
becomes  too  filthy  for  endurance,  the  inhabitants 
remove  and  make  a  new  home  on  another  site.1 

Another  limitation  is  proximity  to  fields  suitable 
for  agricultural  purposes.  Crops  can  be  raised  only 
on  lands  containing  a  certain  amount  of  moisture. 
Such  tracts  are  scarce.  Little  strips  and  fragments 
of  suitable  soil,  along  the  banks  of  a  stream  or 
around  water-holes,  are  eagerly  sought.  Proximity, 
as  has  already  been  remarked,  is  merely  a  relative 
term  in  the  Southwest.  It  means  any  place  within 

'This  voluntary  abandonment  of  old  pueblos  has  doubt 
less  been  the  cause  of  exaggeration  on  the  part  of  writers 
regarding  the  number  of  former  inhabitants  of  the  South 
west.  Simply  to  count  the  ruins  would  imply  a  very  dense 
population,  but  many  of  these  have  been  occupied  and  aban 
doned  even  within  the  historical  period. 


86  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

a  few  miles.  When  there  would  be  a  tendency  to 
place  the  village  upon  arable  land,  other  considera 
tions  might  keep  it  some  distance  away.  The  pueblo 
of  Acoma  is  twelve  miles  from  the  locality  in  which 
the  inhabitants  raise  crops.  In  cases  of  that  kind, 
part  of  the  inhabitants  generally  remain  at  the  home, 
while  the  rest  go  out  for  the  season  to  attend  the 
tillage. 


CHAPTER  IV 

FOOD   AND   CLOTHING 


f    •    ^HE  sustenance  of  the  American  aborigines 
has  been  whatever  the  various   localities 


i 


afforded.  The  variety  is  suggested  by 
foods  such  as  seals,  whales,  oysters,  clams,  salmon, 
snails,  turtles,  locusts,  reindeer,  dogs,  llamas,  buffa 
loes,  rabbits,  maple  sugar,  acorns,  sunflower-seeds, 
gourds,  potatoes,  bananas,  water-rice,  maize,  and 
various  roots,  barks,  nuts,  and  berries.  These  are 
but  samples  of  the  predominating  foods  found  in  the 
many  diversified  regions  extending  from  Point  Bar 
row  to  Cape  Horn.  From  the  complete  stock,  one 
could  make  out  a  long  list  of  edibles  which  would 
adorn  the  table  of  any  civilized  man,  and  a  list 
equally  long  of  those,  simply  the  names  of  which 
bring  up  feelings  of  disgust.  There  is  also  great 
variety  in  the  manner  of  preparation  —  or  lack  of 
preparation  —  from  raw  meats,  rotten  fish,  and  ob 
noxious  insects  to  well-roasted  corn  and  thoroughly 
cooked  calabashes. 

It  may  be  said  in  general  that  the  tribes  east  of  the 
Mississippi  River  obtained  sustenance  by  agriculture 
rather  than  by  hunting;  though  the  predominance  of 
one  or  the  other  of  these  occupations  throughout 
this  vast  area  was  largely  determined  by  locality. 

8? 


88  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

On  the  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  from  source 
to  mouth,  the  thinly  scattered  occupants  were  pre 
eminently  hunters.  The  seasons  were  too  short  for 
extensive  agriculture,  and  game  was  rather  plentiful. 

On  the  shores  of  the  Great  Lakes,  fishing  was  an 
extensive  primitive  industry.  For  a  considerable  dis 
tance  out  on  those  immense  sheets  of  water,  canoes 
could  pass  with  ease  and  safety ;  and,  upon  the  lands 
reaching  for  hundreds  of  miles  in  every  direction 
away  from  this  group  of  inland  seas,  were  scattered 
thousands  and  thousands  of  small  lakes  and  ponds, 
each  teeming  with  wholesome  fish,  which,  with  those 
in  the  adjacent  rivers  and  streams,  added  largely  to 
the  food  supply  of  the  great  Algonkin  tribes  of  that 
extensive  region. 

While  the  waters  of  the  whole  coast  of  the  western 
hemisphere  furnished  more  or  less  sustenance  to  the 
tribes  bordering  upon  them,  there  were  certain  lim 
ited  areas  which  were  especially  noted  for  piscatory 
foods.  Over  among  the  fiords  of  the  Canadian 
Pacific,  the  tribes  depended  principally  upon  halibut, 
sturgeon,  cod,  salmon,  oolakan,  herring,  shell-fish, 
and  various  other  animal  products  of  those  prolific 
temperate  waters.  In  large  canoes  fittingly  fashioned 
from  gigantic  trees  abounding  in  that  region,  the  na 
tives,  generally  in  squads,  rowed  about  on  the  com 
paratively  placid  waters  comprising  the  straits,  inlets, 
caves,  river-mouths,  and  other  arms  of  the  ocean  that 
circled  and  twined  about  among  the  various  islands 
and  peninsulas;  and,  with  ingeniously  devised  fish- 


FOOD   AND    CLOTHING  89 

hooks,  strongly  woven  nets,  deftly  made  spears,  and 
paddle-shaped  fishing-rakes,  the  amphibious  popula 
tion  captured  from  the  sea  enough  of  their  sustenance 
to  make  them,  as  a  class,  emphatically  fish-consumers. 
Many  other  strips  and  patches  of  shore  with  human 
occupants  equally  piscivorous  could  be  found  farther 
above  on  the  long  coast-line  of  northwestern  Amer 
ica,  before  one  would  reach  the  icy  polar  ocean,  where 
larger  aquatic  animals  have  always  figured  more 
conspicuously  in  furnishing  food  for  the  scanty 
Arctic  population. 

Down  on  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia,  the  salmon 
in  the  springtime  poured  inward  from  the  ocean  in 
immense  schools  —  as  they  did  more  or  less  into 
other  rivers  farther  northward  —  and  pushed  on  up 
against  the  current  to  find  suitable  places  for  spawn 
ing.  At  advantageous  points  along  the  river,  many 
miles  inland,  the  various  tribes  gathered  and  caught 
vast  quantities  of  these  fish,  darting  along  on  their 
way  to  the  spawning  beds.  The  usual  ingenious  de 
vices  for  acquiring  them  were  put  to  use.  Spears, 
hooks,  nets,  and  weirs  were  the  more  prominent  im 
plements  and  appliances.  Sometimes,  at  a  shallow 
place  in  the  river,  posts  were  driven  into  the  soil  at 
short  distances  from  one  another  across  the  channel, 
and  a  network  of  willow  branches  was  strung  along 
from  one  to  the  other,  thus  forming  a  sort  of  dam. 
The  foremost  fishes  on  their  way  up-stream  would  be 
intercepted  by  this  obstruction,  the  ones  behind  would 
crowd  upon  those  ahead,  making  a  tangled  mass,  and 


90  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

in  the  confusion  vast  numbers  could  then  be  easily 
speared  or  caught  in  nets  and  baskets.  Writing  of 
a  device  used  by  the  Quiarlpi  tribe,  at  Kettle  Falls 
on  the  same  river,  H.  H.  Bancroft  says :  "  Here  an 
immense  willow  basket,  often  ten  feet  in  diameter 
and  twelve  feet  deep,  is  suspended  at  the  falls  from 
strong  timbers  fixed  in  crevices  of  the  rocks,  and 
above  this  is  a  frame  so  attached  that  the  salmon,  in 
attempting  to  leap  the  falls,  strike  the  sticks  of  the 
frame  and  are  thrown  back  into  the  basket,  in 
the  largest  of  which  naked  men  armed  with  clubs 
await  them.  Five  thousand  pounds  of  salmon  have 
thus  been  taken  in  a  day  by  means  of  a  single 
basket."  1 

In  the  fishing  seasons,  whole  tribes  would  camp 
upon  the  banks  of  the  rivers  as  well  as  on  the  ocean 
coast  and  dry  the  newly  caught  fish  in  the  sun  and 
carry  them  away  to  become  the  principal  annual 
sustenance. 

The  dietary  of  the  savage  Seris,  down  on  the  Gulf 
of  California,  has  also  always  consisted  chiefly  of 
the  products  of  the  sea,  or  of  creatures  closely  asso 
ciated  with  the  sea.  For  lack  of  rain  along  the  coast, 
the  inhabitants  have  never  been  agriculturists,  and, 
on  account  of  scarcity  of  land  animals,  they  could 
not  be  ranked  as  a  hunting  class,  despite  their  re 
markable  fleetness  of  foot  and  proficiency  in  the  art 
of  capturing  prey. 

The   article   of   first   importance   in   the    bill   of 
1  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  p.  262. 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  91 

fare  of  these  people  is  the  green  turtle,1  an  animal 
found  in  considerable  numbers  in  and  about  those 
sub-tropical  waters,  where  many  of  the  clumsy 
species  are  seized  when  waddling  along  on  the  sandy 
beaches,  or,  from  the  balsas,  are  harpooned  while 
lying  in  the  surf.  The  animal  may  weigh  from  one 
to  several  hundred  pounds,  and  the  capture  of  it 
is  the  occasion  of  a  feast.  After  being  caught,  the 
creature  is  immediately  seized  upon  by  the  ravenous 
natives,  the  plastron  is  broken  with  a  stone  and  torn 
off  piece  by  piece,  the  cold  oozing  blood  sucked  up 
as  if  by  a  swarm  of  leeches,  the  raw  flesh  torn  away 
in  fragments  with  the  fingers  and  greedily  devoured. 
Pelicans  form  no  insignificant  part  of  the  food 
supply.  At  a  certain  season  on  some  moonless  night, 
when  at  roost  in  their  island  haunts,  they  are  stealth 
ily  approached  and  killed  by  men  and  larger  boys 
provided  with  clubs,  who,  in  company  with  the 
squaws  and  children  whom  they  have  brought  across 
the  turbulent  straits  with  them,  begin,  as  soon  as  the 
birds  are  despatched,  to  gorge  upon  the  uncleaned, 
uncooked  meat  in  a  manner  sickening  to  behold.  The 
carousal  lasts  several  days,  perhaps  weeks,  according 
to  the  number  of  birds  killed.  In  the  meantime  the 
squaws  have  skinned  the  dead  fowls  for  the  purpose 
of  making  pelican  robes;  and,  at  last,  when  every 
bone  has  been  picked,  these  temporarily  satiated 
gormandizers  return  over  the  water  on  their  balsas 

*McGee:   Seventeenth  Annual  Report  of  the   Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  p.  186,  et  seq. 


92  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

to  the  rude  transitory  dens  which  are  called  their 
homes. 

Journeys  are  also  made  to  the  outlying  islands 
of  Patos  and  San  Esteban  in  search  of  wild  ducks 
and  their  eggs,  the  former  of  which  are  obtained 
with  the  use  of  the  bow  and  arrow,  the  latter  by 
visitations  to  the  hatching-grounds. 

After  all,  next  to  the  turtle,  as  a  source  of  sus 
tenance,  fish  are  of  most  importance  to  the  Seris. 
The  methods  of  obtaining  them  are  simple  and 
primitive.  These  Indians  have  never  excelled  in 
the  piscatory  devices  put  to  use  by  natives  farther 
north  on  the  same  coast.  They  have  depended 
chiefly  upon  their  long  practised  deftness  in  catch 
ing  by  hand  the  imprisoned  fish,  left  in  shallows 
or  entangled  among  rocks  or  shrubbery  at  the  re 
ceding  of  the  tides.  The  whale,  the  great  mammal 
visitor  of  those  waters,  is  occasionally  carried  in 
at  high  tide  and  stranded  on  a  shoal,  and,  when 
this  occurs,  the  natives,  on  discovering  the  animal, 
camp  in  the  vicinity  of  it  for  weeks  till  the  car 
cass  is  consumed.  Clams,  oysters,  lobsters,  and 
crabs,  snatched  from  the  water  or  dug  out  of  the 
sands,  are  also  important  acquisitions  to  the  food 
supply. 

The  land  fauna  of  this  wild  and  desolate  region 
consists  of  a  few  specimens  of  antelope,  deer,  jaguar, 
puma,  mountain  sheep,  and  rabbit,  a  few  of  which 
are  stalked,  but  probably  more  of  which  are  chased 
down  and  caught  alive. 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  93 

Vegetal  food  is  exceedingly  scanty  and  consists 
principally  of  tunas  of  the  cacti,  beans  of  the  mes- 
quite-tree,  and  a  few  varieties  of  seeds. 

On  the  Atlantic  coast  of  the  New  World  were 
several  noticeable  segments  of  land  containing  na 
tives,  living  almost  exclusively  upon  the  products 
of  the  sea.  Take,  for  example,  the  strip  of  shore 
extending  from  central  Maine  to  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence.  It  is  strikingly  different  from  Seriland 
in  almost  all  its  great  natural  features;  but,  like  the 
Seris,  the  Echemins  and  Micmacs  obtained  their 
living  principally  from  the  waters,  and,  like  them, 
were  low  in  the  culture  stage,  when  compared  with 
their  immediate  neighbors  on  lesser  latitudes.  For 
instance,  on  territory  reaching  from  the  Kennebec 
River  southward  for  several  hundred  miles,  keeping 
rather  closely  to  the  shore,  the  population  exhibited 
a  far  higher  order  of  culture  than  the  tribes  men 
tioned  above.  The  difference  in  living  between  the 
two  sections  was  particularly  noticeable.  These  more 
southern  aborigines  carried  on  a  comparatively  ex 
tensive  agriculture.  Indian  corn  was  evidently  the 
staple;  and,  as  an  aid  to  the  production  of  crops, 
the  quasi-farmers  were  accustomed  to  place  a  fish 
in  each  corn-hill  as  a  fertilizer.  Other  native  plants 
were  cultivated  to  a  greater  or  less  extent.  A  very 
large  part  of  their  dietary  was  also  obtained  from 
the  ocean,  and  this  stock  of  salt-water  food  was  much 
augmented  by  the  fresh-water  fish  from  the  abound 
ing  lakes  and  rivers.  So  fishes,  crustaceans,  and  mol- 


94  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

lusks  from  the  waters,  game  from  the  woods,  and 
cultivated  products  from  the  soil,  all  contributed  to 
support  a  population,  dense,  when  compared  with 
many  other  areas  of  similar  size,  especially  those 
northward,  where  the  inhabitants  were  confined  to 
a  practically  single  source  of  food  supply,  and  per 
haps  a  not  very  bountiful  one  at  that.  In  fact  this 
coast  region  of  middle  New  England  is  one  of  the 
best  examples  in  the  western  world  to  illustrate  mul 
tiplicity  of  tribes  and  comparative  density  of  popula 
tion  on  a  very  limited  area  where  the  food  problem 
is  not  especially  serious  on  account  of  the  several 
channels  of  supply. 

Upon  a  limited  portion  of  this  area,  a  small  tract 
of  land  extending  from  the  lower  waters  of  the 
Merrimac  to  those  of  the  Connecticut,  were  crowded 
the  Massachusetts,  the  Wampanoags,  the  Nipmucks, 
the  Narragansetts,  the  Nyantics,  the  Pequoits,  and 
probably  at  one  time  the  Mohegans. 

While  unusual  resources  for  obtaining  food  made 
the  existence  of  such  a  compact  population  possible, 
there  was  of  course  a  secondary  reason  for  keeping 
the  tribes  crowded  together  and  pushing  them  out 
ward  toward  the  sea.  The  dreaded  Iroguois^  were 
not  far  westward,  and  it  was  advisable  to  live  as  far 
away  as  possible  from  those  invincible  fighters. 

/Taking  primitive  North  America  as  a  whole,  jm- 
cultivated  vegetation  as  a  food  product  was  no 
insignificant  factor.  The  supply  was  of  course  a 
constantly  varying  quantity,  owing  to  the  great  ex- 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  95 

tent  of  territory  and  the  multiformity  of  physical 
conditions.  In  some  localities  it  assumed,  among  the 
natives,  a  place  of  much  importance,  in  others  it  was 
of  almost  no  consequence.  Berries,  nuts,  and  roots 
very  frequently  kept  starvation  away  from  tribes, 
especially  nomadic  ones.  Wild  rice  grew  indigenously 
over  an  area  covering  probably  half  of  the  United 
States.  In  the  vicinity  of  the  Great  Lakes  it  figured 
very  conspicuously.  With  some  tribes  it  became  the 
chief  means  of  sustenance.  The  Menomenees  derived 
their  very  name  from  this  cereal,  growing  abundantly 
as  it  did  on  the  lands  they  occupied  near  the  western 
shore  of  Green  Bay  and  along  the  banks  of  the 
Menomenee  River. 

Among  the  most  advanced  natives  of  the  New 
World,  cultivated  vegetable  foods  have  long  been 
of  more  importance  than  any  others.  In  some  sec 
tions  the  supply  of  meat  came  to  be  of  comparatively 
little  significance  as  a  means  of  sustenance,  before 
Europeans  augmented  the  stock  by  the  introduction 
of  domestic  animals. 

Of  all  vegetable  products  of  North  America,  maize 
has  been  most  conspicuous  in  aboriginal  life.  As 
Fiske  says :  "  It  could  be  planted  without  clearing 
or  ploughing  the  soil.  It  was  only  necessary  to 
girdle  the  trees  with  a  stone  hatchet,  so  as  to  destroy 
their  leaves  and  let  in  the  sunshine.  A  few  scratches 
and  digs  were  made  in  the  ground  with  a  stone 
digger,  and  the  seed  once  dropped  in  took  care  of 
itself.  The  ears  could  hang  for  weeks  after  ripening, 


96  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

and  could  be  picked  off  without  meddling  with  the 
stalk:  there  was  no  need  of  threshing  or  winnow 
ing."  1  On  the  same  subject  Bancroft  writes :  "  The 
maize  springs  luxuriantly  from  a  warm,  new  field, 
and,  in  the  rich  soil,  with  little  aid  from  culture, 
outstrips  the  weeds;  bears,  not  thirty,  not  fifty,  but 
a  thousand-fold;  if  once  dry,  is  hurt  neither  by  heat 
nor  cold;  may  be  preserved  in  a  pit  or  a  cave  for 
years,  aye,  and  for  centuries;  is  gathered  from  the 
field  by  the  hand,  without  knife  or  reaping-hook; 
and  becomes  nutritious  food  by  a  simple  roasting 
before  a  fire.  A  little  of  its  parched  meal,  with  water 
from  the  brook,  was  often  a  dinner  and  supper;  and 
the  warrior,  with  a  small  supply  of  it  in  a  basket  at 
his  back,  or  in  a  leathern  girdle,  and  with  his  bow 
and  arrows,  is  ready  for  travel  at  a  moment's  warn 
ing."  2  kThis  was  the  great  staple  food  product  of 
the  Pueblo  country  when  Coronado  3  passed  through. 
There  were  also  beans  and  squashes,  but  corn  com 
prised  over  ninety  per  cent  of  the  food. 

This  grain  is  planted  in  hills.  The  agricultural 
implement,  used  by  all  Pueblos  originally  and  by 
many  to-day,  consists  of  a  stick  some  three  feet  in 
length,  generally  with  a  stub  of  a  limb  or  some  other 
projection  reaching  out  at  right  angles  about  twelve 
inches  above  the  sharpened  end.  The  customary  ap- 

1  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  p.  28. 

2  History  of  the  United  States  (Centenary  edition),  vol.  ii, 

P-  423- 

8  The  Coronado  Expedition:  Fourteenth  Annual  Report 
of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  vol.  i,  p.  518,  et  al. 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  97 

pearance  of  the  implement  suggests  a  miniature  stilt. 
When  used,  it  is  pushed  into  the  ground  with  the 
assistance  of  the  foot  placed  upon  the  projection. 
A  hole  several  inches  in  depth  is  thus  made,  and  into 
this  the  seeds  are  dropped,  and  then  covered.  To 
plant  so  deeply  in  moist  clay-soil  would  be  fatal; 
but  here  the  necessity  for  such  planting  arises  on 
account  of  the  dryness  of  the  ground  at  the  im 
mediate  surface.  As  soon  as  the  blades  have  pro 
jected  above  the  earth,  the  plant  is  constantly  guarded 
till  harvest  time  in  order  to  preserve  it  from  enemies, 
brute  and  human.  After  the  grain  has  ripened,  it 
is  cut  or  torn  from  the  stalk  and  carried  to  the 
pueblo  to  be  distributed  among  the  occupants. 

The  food  supply  of  the  country  has  been  materially 
increased  from  time  immemorial  by  rude  systems 
of  irrigation.  These  were  established  at  compara 
tively  convenient  distances  from  the  pueblos,  and 
often  much  ingenuity  was  manifested  in  their  con 
struction.  The  rivers  and  brooks  that  flow  through 
the  land  of  the  Pueblos  are  literally  "  few  and  far 
between,"  and  the  quantity  of  water  in  them,  except 
in  times  of  flood,  is  comparatively  small.  The  na 
tives,  however,  made  the  most  of  their  opportunities. 
They  learned  to  construct  dams  out  of  brush,  stones, 
and  mud,  and  consequently  were  able  to  convey  por 
tions  of  the  running  water  out  over  the  more  or 
less  level  patches  of  earth  lying  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  natural  streams.  The  individual  members  of  a 
village  combined  their  energies,  and  scooped  out 

7 


98  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

broad  shallow  canals  which  discharged  their  waters 
into  lateral  ditches,  and  these  finally  into  innumerable 
trenches,  furrows,  and  grooves.  The  thirsty  earth 
eagerly  drank  the  water  as  it  passed  along  the  various 
conduits,  and  sent  up  a  generous  supply  of  vegetable 
growth  in  return. 

Considering  the  lack  of  facilities,  some  of  the  irri 
gating  systems  were  constructed  on  an  extensive 
scale.  In  order  to  obtain  sufficient  elevation  for 
bringing  the  water  out  over  the  land,  canals  some 
times  tapped  the  river  several  miles  above  the  tracts 
to  be  irrigated.  The  labor  of  preparing  the  long 
aqueducts  must  have  been  exceedingly  irksome. 
There  were  no  picks,  plows,  spades,  shovels,  or 
scoops,  according  to  our  ideas  of  these  implements. 
With  rude  stone,  bone,  or  wooden  implements  the 
earth  must  have  been  pecked,  pounded,  softened,  or 
broken  at  first;  then  scooped  up  with  the  bare  hands, 
or  perhaps  with  pieces  of  pottery;  then  placed  in  bas 
kets,  skins,  or  vessels  of  earthen-ware,  in  which  it  was 
finally  lugged  out  of  the  trench  and  piled  along  its 
edges.  Where  the  water  had  to  be  conducted  over 
beds  of  loose,  coarse  sand,  it  was  necessary  to  spread 
a  thick  layer  of  adobe  clay  over  the  bottom  and  sides 
of  the  ditch  to  prevent  seepage.  When  the  plastering 
was  finished,  the  clay  apparently  was  hardened  by 
artificial  means.  "  The  extreme  hardness  of  the 
canal  lining,"  says  Hodge,  "  may  be  accounted  for 
by  the  supposition  that  instead  of  burning  the  dense 
underbrush  for  the  sole  purpose  of  destroying  it,  the 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  99 

natives  gathered  it  into  their  moist  canal  beds,  where 
it  was  burned  to  harden  the  newly-plastered  lining."  1 

The  canal-builders  went  even  further  than  to  delve 
in  clay  and  sand  in  order  to  construct  their  conduits. 
With  stone  axes  —  harder  of  course  than  the  material 
they  sought  to  remove  —  they  broke  and  chopped 
out  fragments  from  the  beds  of  rock  and  thus  made 
a  passage  for  the  water.  Concerning  one  of  the  pre 
historic  irrigating  canals,  near  Mesa  City  in  southern 
Arizona,  Hodge  writes :  "  This  knoll  or  mound  of 
concrete  was  partly  encircled  by  the  irrigating  ditch 
in  order  to  preserve  the  proper  incline  of  the  canal 
bed,  and  to  accomplish  this  it  was  necessary  to 
excavate  through  this  indurated  deposit  with  imple 
ments  of  stone,  a  work  necessarily  attended  with 
inconceivable  difficulty  and  requiring  a  great  length 
of  time."  2 

It  was  a  difficult  task  to  construct  the  conduits 
in  the  first  place,  and  in  many  localities  it  was  tedious 
work  to  keep  them  in  repair.  Floods  caused  the  water 
to  break  over  the  banks  and  wear  them  away;  drift 
ing  sands  choked  the  smaller  trenches  and  made  them 
temporarily  worthless  by  preventing  the  uniform  dis 
tribution  of  the  water;  waste  by  seepage  had  to  be 
carefully  guarded  against;  and,  worst  of  all,  some 
of  the  waters  were  so  charged  with  minerals  that 
the  land  soon  became  unfit  for  agricultural  purposes 
and  so  had  to  be  abandoned. 

1  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  vi,  p.  325. 

2  Id.,  p.  327. 

7 


ioo  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Since  many  of  the  streams  of  the  Southwest  are 
intermittent,  and  nearly  all  are  likely  to  become  dry 
in  midsummer,  reservoirs  were  built  at  favorable 
points,  especially  across  washes  running  out  from  the 
mountains.  Some  of  these  were  several  rods  in  di 
ameter  and  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  depth,  and  were  of 
great  value  in  supplementing  the  inadequate  ditch 
supply. 

The  amount  of  land  irrigated  in  one  way  and 
another  in  the  whole  region  of  the  Southwest  ran  up 
into  the  thousands  of  acres,  and  the  length  of  main 
canals  or  ditches  when  taken  together,  would  reach 
scores  of  miles. 

The  method  of  grinding  corn  in  the  Pueblo  country 
attracted  the  attention  of  Castanedo  of  the  Coronado 
Expedition,  1540-1542,  and  the  same  kinds  of  tools 
then  in  use  are  retained  to-day.  In  each  house,  or 
family  apartment,  is  stationed  a  trough,  or  box, 
about  six  feet  in  length,  made  of  stone  slabs,  ce 
mented  in  place  by  adobe  clay.  It  is  usually  divided 
into  three  compartments.  In  each  of  these  is  a  flat 
stone,  called  a  metate,  about  the  size  of  a  small  wash 
board,  one  end  resting  on  the  bottom  of  the  trough, 
the  other  leaning  against  the  side.  This  stone  is 
pitched  at  an  angle  of  thirty  or  forty  degrees  from  a 
horizontal.  The  three  pieces  differ  much  in  degrees 
of  coarseness.  The  Indian  woman  places  corn  in  the 
end  compartment,  in  which  is  the  coarsest  slab.  With 
a  stone  about  a  foot  in  length,  four  inches  in  width, 
and  one  in  thickness,  which  she  seizes  in  both  hands, 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING     ,,,,, 


she  lifts  and  spreads  the  gram  over  the  slab.,  crusning 
and  grinding  it  into  coarse  meal.  It  is  passed  along  to 
the  other  compartments  in  turn,  where  it  is  made  still 
finer,  and  thus  becomes  ready  for  use.  The  process 
of  grinding  reminds  one  of  a  woman  at  her  washing. 
After  being  reduced  to  as  powdery  a  form  as  desired, 
the  meal,  by  mixing  with  water,  is  made  into  a  sort  of 
batter,  and  is  then  spread  upon  a  large  flat  stone  to 
be  heated  over  a  fire.  Preparing  this  food  is  similar 
to  the  ordinary  manner  of  making  griddle-cakes. 
This  thin  corn-bread  is,  or  rather  was,  the  most  pop 
ular  article  of  sustenance  among  the  Indians  of  the 
Southwest. 

The  introduction  of  wheat  and  domestic  animals 
has  somewhat  changed  the  mode  of  living  in  the 
Pueblo  country,  and  greatly  lessened  the  possibility 
of  starvation  in  times  of  shortage  of  the  corn  crop. 
Many  beasts  are  raised  almost  solely  for  food,  and 
have  become  of  great  importance  in  cases  of 
emergency.  Wheat  is  cultivated  rather  extensively 
through  irrigation. 

The  threshing  is  done  by  clearing  away  stones, 
sage-brush,  clumps  of  earth,  or  other  obstructions, 
from  a  level  and  circular  plot  of  hard  adobe  ground 
twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  in  diameter,  situated  some 
where  near  the  village.  The  threshing-ground  is 
enclosed  with  a  fence.  The  unthreshed  straw  is  then 
brought  from  the  field  and  piled  into  a  stack  on  the 
threshing  floor  to  the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet. 
The  fence  is  let  down  at  some  point,  and  a  half-dozen 


102  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

or  more  of  horses,  donkeys,  or  goats  are  crowded  in, 
one  at  a  time,  all  headed  the  same  way,  between  the 
fence  and  the  stack.  The  beasts  are  then  driven  round 
and  round,  like  horses  in  a  circus  ring,  while  the 
drivers  stand  on  the  outside,  or  perhaps  ride  on  the 
backs  of  some  of  the  animals,  shouting,  swinging 
whips  and  clubs,  and  making  the  beasts  step 
inward  as  far  as  possible  against  the  stack,  and 
thus  drawing  down  the  straw  from  the  pile  a  little  at 
a  time,  beneath  their  feet,  and  thoroughly  trampling 
it.  This  process  is  continued  until  the  whole  pile,  by 
degrees,  has  been  pulled  down,  and  the  grain  suffi 
ciently  shelled.  The  straw  is  then  removed,  and  the 
chaff  and  grain  separated  by  tossing  in  the  wind.  The 
wheat  is  then  put  into  a  common  storeroom,  or  dis 
tributed  among  the  families.  This  whole  process  is 
modern  of  course,  and  could  not  have  existed  in  pre- 
Columbian  times.  To  one  witnessing  it,  there  is  a 
suggestion  of  ancient  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land.  The 
wheat  kernels  are  ground  into  flour  in  the  same  man 
ner  as  the  corn,  and  similarly  made  into  wafers. 

Wild  game  was  only  a  subordinate  item  on  the  food 
list  of  the  Pueblos.  A  deer  or  antelope  was  occasion 
ally  brought  in,  and  less  frequently  other  of  the 
larger  animals.  Several  rabbits  were  killed  in  the 
course  of  the  year.  Game  in  general  was  obtained  by 
means  of  rude  traps,  and  by  use  of  the  bow  and 
arrow.  Smaller  animals,  especially  rabbits,  were,  and 
are  to-day,  frequently  killed  with  a  boomerang.  This 
weapon  consists  of  a  piece  of  hard  wood,  about  thirty 


FOOD   AND   CLOTHING  103 

inches  in  length,  some  three  inches  in  width,  and  less 
than  a  half-inch  in  thickness.  It  is  usually  made  from 
a  tough  bough  with  a  natural  and  rather  abrupt  bend, 
which  produces  the  elbow  in  the  middle  of  the 
weapon.  On  account  of  its  peculiar  shape,  this  Pueblo 
boomerang  can  be  thrown  with  great  accuracy,  swift 
ness,  and  telling  effect,  several  hundred  feet;  and,  as 
it  flies  along,  the  ends  circle  round  and  round  each 
other,  cutting  a  swath  through  the  air.  When  thrown, 
it  does  not  return,  as  the  Australian  weapon,  bearing 
the  same  name,  is  said  to  do. 

The  game  supply  was  often  temporarily  increased 
through  that  widespread  custom  of  going  out  in 
parties,  forming  a  large  circle,  marching  inward, 
driving  the  enclosed  animals  into  an  ever-narrowing 
circular  space,  and  thus  easily  destroying  them  with 
clubs  and  other  weapons. 

For  clothing,  the  aborigines  of  the  western  hemi 
sphere  depended  upon  what  their  local  surroundings 
might  furnish.  In  the  far  north,  pelts  of  seal  and 
reindeer,  feathers  and  skins  of  birds,  and  the  intes 
tines  of  the  whale  were  the  most  common  coverings. 
Among  the  Algonkins  and  Iroquois,  leggings  of 
dressed  skins,  upper  garments  of  many  varieties  of 
the  lighter  furs,  and  strong  moccasins  made  of  tough 
teguments  of  the  larger  beasts,  constituted  the  typical 
dress.  On  the  prairies  and  plains,  dried  and  tanned 
hides  artistically  ornamented  with  furs,  bones,  and 
quills  were  mostly  worn.  Among  the  mountains  far 
ther  west,  strong  suits  of  buckskin  and  hats  of  coarse 


104  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

basketry  were  in  use.  On  the  western  coast  were 
skins  of  smaller  animals,  well  tanned  and  richly  or 
namented  with  grasses.  On  the  West  Indian  Islands 
and  adjoining  coasts,  but  little  clothing  was  used,  and 
that  was  made  very  largely  of  grasses  and  bark  fibres. 
In  Brazil  also,  the  climate  demanded  but  few  articles 
of  dress,  and  these  consisted  principally  of  bark 
cloth.  Down  among  the  Patagonian  aborigines  and 
the  inhabitants  of  the  rocky  island  of  Tierra  del 
Fuego,  protection  was  afforded  principally  by  skins 
hanging  in  such  a  way  as  to  lessen  the  cold  blasts 
common  to  that  barren  wind-swept  region.  On  the 
mountains  and  plateaus  of  equatorial  South  America, 
the  llama  and  alpaca  furnished  wool  fibre  for  cloth, 
and  cotton  was  also  woven  into  fabrics. 

In  the  Pueblo  country,  tanned  skins  of  various 
animals  were  common.  Textures  were  also  made 
from  cotton,  a  plant  indigenous  to  the  southern  part 
of  the  United  States  and  growing  all  along  the 
country  far  down  into  South  America.  The  Pueblos 
wove  the  fabrics,  of  which  the  cotton  garments  were 
made,  from  well-spun  threads,  and  much  of  the  work 
was  of  excellent  quality.  Garments  were  also  made 
from  woven  fibre  of  the  yucca,  a  very  characteristic 
plant  of  Pueblo  land.  A  sort  of  cloth  was  also  made 
by  weaving,  tying,  or  in  other  ways  uniting  feathers 
with  bits  of  rabbit  skins.  A  sort  of  kilt  was  made 
from  several  substances,  especially  from  shredded 
bark  and  numerous  plant  fibres,  woven  into  fabrics 
of  various  degrees  of  coarseness.  Sandals  were  also 


FOOD    AND    CLOTHING  105 

fashioned  from  the  interlaced  rushes,  and  moccasins 
from  various  skins. 

Like  the  other  branches  of  American  aborigines 
and  primitive  men  in  general,  the  Pueblos  are  excess 
ively  fond  of  ornament.  Decorations  for  the  hair 
have  always  been  worn  by  both  sexes.  The  long  locks 
were  sometimes  allowed  to  hang  loosely  about  the 
head  and  shoulders,  with  just  enough  of  fastening  to 
keep  the  eyesight  from  being  obstructed ;  but,  gener 
ally,  with  greater  attention  to  convenience  and  adorn 
ment,  they  were  twisted  into  braids  and  tied  into 
knots.  Before  ribbons  from  the  looms  of  the  white 
men  were  introduced,  the  knots  and  braids  were 
fastened  as  well  as  ornamented  with  strips  of  fur 
and  home-made  threads  of  cotton.  A  Moki  marriage 
able  girl  wears  to-day,  as  did  her  ancestral  maiden 
prototype  in  the  days  of  Coronado,  on  each  side  of 
her  head  a  presumably  alluring  cart-wheel  puff  some 
five  or  six  times  larger  than  her  ear.  On  gala  days 
at  Pueblo  villages,  there  is  always  a  great  display  of 
flesh-paints,  feathers,  ear-rings,  bracelets,  anklets, 
kilts,  belts,  and  blankets.  Tattooing  has  been  prac 
tised  more  or  less  all  over  the  continent;  and,  in 
certain  regions  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  plateau,  it  has 
been  very  fashionable.  Just  before  Friar  Marcos 
started  on  his  expedition  up  through  Sonora,  he 
reported  a  visit  from  tattooed  Indians  from  the 
north  or  east.  Certain  it  is  that  many  tribes  in  and 
around  the  Pueblo  region  —  the  Mojaves,  Pimas, 
and  Comanches  —  have  made  use  of  this  sort  of 


106  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ornamentation;  but  the  Pueblos  do  not  seem  to  have 
practised  it  very  extensively.  Indians  on  the  outskirts 
of  this  country  also  perforated  their  ears,  lips,  anc 
noses;  and,  within  those  perforations,  inserted  orna 
ments  of  shell,  bone,  or  wood.  The  Pueblos  have 
appeared  very  well  satisfied  in  using  paints  as  theii 
most  characteristic  ornament,  though,  as  noted  above 
other  finery  was  common.  The  men  especially  dis 
torted  their  ears  by  wearing  heavy  ear-rings. 


CHAPTER    M 

GOVERNMENT    AND    SOCIAL    LIFE 

ONE  of  the  most  striking  characteristics  of 
the   government   and   social   life   of   early 
races   is   communism.    To   be   sure,   isola 
tion,  hermitage,  and  ostracism  are  found  in  every 
zone  and  every  grade  of  culture.    All  civilizations 
reveal  Robinson  Crusoes,  Timons,  and  Santons.    No 
estimate  can  be  made  of  the  number  of  those  who, 
through  no  fault  of  their  own,  have  died  "  out  of 
humanity's  reach." 

Causes  for  retirement  and  isolation  are  many. 
Religion,  race-persecution,  individual  peculiarities 
and  preferences, —  these  and  various  others  come  at 
once  to  mind,  to  say  nothing  of  a  case  now  and  then 
in  which  a  person  finds  it  convenient  to  withdraw 
from  society  to  avoid  jailer  and  hangman.  The 
spirit  of  independence,  the  food  problem,  competition, 
search  for  health,  moneyed  interests,  and  many  other 
considerations  draw  regretful  thousands  every  year, 
singly  or  in  groups,  far  from  friends,  kindred,  and 
native  land. 

In  lower  grades  of  society,  individual  isolation  is 
difficult  to  endure.  Man,  before  he  has  reached  the 
higher  stages  of  advancement,  is  but  poorly  equipped 
to  contend  with  the  forces  of  nature.  Left  to  struggle 

107 


io8  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

single-handed  with  merciless  elements,  ferocious 
beasts,  and  hostile  men,  the  native  stands  out  in 
the  world  friendless  and  helpless.  Using  all  his 
craft  and  talent,  he  is  outstripped  again  and  again 
by  beasts  stronger  and  swifter  than  himself,  and 
with  keener  hearing,  sharper  eyesight,  and  more 
acute  organs  of  smell  than  his  own;  and  often, 
when  he  least  expects  it,  he  finds,  to  his  discomfort 
or  distress,  that  he  is  overmatched  even  in  cun 
ning  and  bravery  by  those  same  brutes  that  he 
fights  and  despises. 

Still  greater  dangers  attend  him  in  his  conflict  with 
human  foes.  He  is  as  a  fugitive  from  justice  with 
the  hands  of  every  man  raised  against  him.  A  thou 
sand  others  of  his  kind,  with  organs  of  sense  and 
texture  of  brain  as  good  as  his  own,  are  constantly 
on  the  watch  to  waylay,  overpower,  and  destroy. 
With  all  these  odds  against  him  the  contest  is  not 
long  in  doubt.  He  soon  succumbs  to  greater  strength 
or  cunning. 

Safety  and  self-interest,  therefore,  even  if  no  other 
reasons  present  themselves,  induce  primitive  man  to 
become  gregarious  and  communistic.  He  sees  on 
every  side  practical  examples  and  advantages  of  alli 
ance.  As  Drummond  says :  "  Long  before  men  had 
learned  to  form  themselves  into  tribes  and  clans  for 
mutual  strength  and  service,  gregariousness  was  an 
established  institution.  The  deer  had  formed  them 
selves  into  herds,  and  the  monkeys  into  troops ;  the 
birds  were  in  flocks,  and  the  wolves  in  packs ;  the  bees 


GOVERNMENT  109 

in  hives,  and  the  ants  in  colonies."  l  The  crows  in 
flocks  watching  from  the  tree-tops,  the  buffaloes  in 
bands  on  the  plains,  and  the  communities  of  beavers 
in  their  mud  homes  would  suggest  to  the  native 
American  the  many  advantages  of  co-operation. 
Order,  system,  and  government  among  the  brutes 
about  him  readily  recommend  themselves.  Unions 
of  individuals  for  offense  and  defense,  sentinels  on 
the  lookout  for  danger,  systems  of  signals,  militarism 
in  various  forms,  obedience  to  leaders,  punishment  of 
offenders,  special  care  of  sick,  maimed,  and  aged, 
division  of  labor,  and  many  other  necessary  or  ex 
pedient  features  of  social  life  would  naturally  attract 
his  attention.  Thrust  into  a  world  of  hardship,  dan 
ger,  and  death,  he  would  be  a  dull  student  indeed  if  he 
learned  no  useful  lessons  from  these  mute  but  expe 
rienced  teachers.  "  Two  heads  are  better  than  one," 
and  a  thousand  hands,  eyes,  and  brains,  employed  as 
a  unit  for  mutual  advantage,  add  infinitely  to  the 
comfort  and  safety  of  the  individual,  and  to  the 
general  improvement  of  the  masses.  Therefore,  under 
pressure  from  without  and  with  special  attractions 
from  within,  man  feels  the  necessity  for  a  social 
organism  and  he  sets  out  to  create  it.  The  individuals 
are  marshaled  into  battalions.  Society,  a  sort  of 
relationship  with  more  or  less  clearly  defined  duties 
and  obligations,  grows  up.  Identity  of  interest  brings 
out  certain  courtesies  and  customs  which  gradually 
develop  into  laws,  varying  according  to  local 
1  Ascent  of  Man,  p.  155. 


i  io  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

demands.  There  is  an  improvement  in  man's  desires, 
aspirations,  ambitions,  and  spirituality.  The  base  and 
brutal  are  more  or  less  smothered  to  make  room  for 
the  noble  and  ideal.  In  the  words  of  Bryant : — 

"  But  misery  brought  in  love;  in  passion's  strife 
Man  gave  his  heart  to  mercy,  pleading  long, 
And  sought  out  gentle  deeds  to  gladden  life; 
The  weak,  against  the  sons  of  spoil  and  wrong, 
Banded,  and  watched  their  hamlets,  and  grew  strong; 
States  rose,  and,  in  the  shadow  of  their  might, 
The  timid  rested.  To  the  reverent  throng, 
Grave  and  time-wrinkled  men,  with  locks  all  white, 
Gave  laws,  and  judged  their  strifes  and  taught 
the  way  of  right."  * 

Communism  had  long  become  a  settled  principle 
among  the  native  tribes  of  the  New  World,  when 
they  were  first  seen  by  white  men.  The  Indian  was 
hunting  in  company  with  his  kindred  and  friends  on 
common  soil,  killing  wild  beasts  for  food  and  sharing 
it  with  his  comrades.  When  he  returned  to  his  abode 
within  his  palisades,  or  to  the  rocky  heights  on  which 
his  home  was  perched,  he  defended  himself  and  his 
companions. 

Co-operation  thus  became  a  ruling  idea.  JRqnalj'ty 
in  property,  power,  speech,  and  tribal  affairs  gener 
ally,  was  the  established  custom.  There  was  but 
little  individual  ownership,  as  understood  and  put 
into  practice  in  the  complex  life  of  civilization.  The 
white  man's  idea  of  buying  and  appropriating  to  him 
self  a  piece  of  ground  was  to  an  Indian  a  strange 
order  of  things.  It  seemed  artificial.  He  saw  nothing 
1  The  Ages,  eleventh  stanza. 


GOVERNMENT  in 

in  nature  to  justify  so  peculiar  a  system.  Generally 
speaking,  he  could  not  understand  how  a  person 
could  own  land  and  water  any  more  than  he  could 
own  air  or  sunshine.  In  a  general  way  he  recognized 
the  right  of  a  tribe  over  a  certain  territory,  and  now 
and  then  a  person  might  come  to  have  a  sort  of  claim 
over  a  patch  of  land,  but  this  was  a  circumstantiality, 
not  an  established  principle. 

This  communistic  practice  is  evidently  the  root 
idea  of  that  hospitality  that  pervades  primitive  so 
ciety.  To  give  food  and  lodging  to  a  stranger  has 
been  considered  from  very  remote  times  a  sort  of 
sacred  obligation.  The  great  world-epics,  especially 
the  earlier  ones  like  the  Iliad,  Odyssey,  and  2Eneid, 
tell  of  many  banquets  and  feasts;  and  constantly 
allude  to  the  spirit  of  hospitality  and  the  firm  hold  it 
had  on  the  customs  of  the  times. 

Why  should  so  much  stress  be  placed  upon  this 
custom  in  the  earlier  stages  of  culture? 

"  It  is  generally  held  right  in  wild  countries,"  says 
Tylor,  "  that  hospitality  shall  be  given  to  all  comers, 
for  every  one  knows  he  may  want  it  any  day  him 
self."  J  Starr  writes:  "Hospitality  is  everywhere 
among  ruder  people  not  a  virtue  but  a  natural  and 
necessary  quality.  Those  closely  related  by  blood,  of 
course,  are  entitled  to  their  share;  but  so  were  all 
the  gens  members;  so  was  all  the  village;  so  was 
every  stranger  who  might  come."  2 

1  Anthropology,  p.  409. 

3  First  Steps  in  Human  Progress,  p.  276. 


ii2  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

One  can  easily  imagine  the  dangers  and  difficul 
ties  of  travel  under  primitive  conditions.  Land  and 
sea  are  infested  with  robbers  and  murderers.  He  who 
goes  from  settlement  to  settlement  must  run  the  risk 
of  facing  outlaws,  wild  beasts,  severity  of  weather, 
and  starvation.  The  one  taking  such  chances  should 
be  entitled  to  special  consideration  in  order  that  in 
tercourse  might  be  promoted.  The  best  classes  of 
men  would  encourage  punishment  to  outlaws,  for 
the  safety  of  the  itinerants.  Through  travelers,  peo 
ple  receive  information  regarding  what  is  going  on 
in  the  outside  world.  There  would  probably  be  in 
such  lands  no  written  language.  News  must  be 
passed  from  mouth  to  mouth.  Wayfarers  must  de 
pend  upon  the  clemency  and  generosity  of  people 
along  the  road,  or  intercourse  must  cease.  The  typ 
ical  mode  of  carrying  on  business  in  such  society 
is  by  means  of  barter.  Many  classes  have  no 
medium  of  exchange,  or,  if  they  have,  it  is  of  such 
a  nature  that  it  cannot  easily  be  handled  and  trans 
ported.  Stones  for  hatchet-making,  colored  clay  for 
paints,  skins  for  clothing,  animals,  especially  oxen 
and  sheep,  shells,  corn,  tobacco,  and  various  other 
substances  have  been  used  extensively,  either  in 
primitive  America  or  elsewhere;  so  to  offer  these 
in  payment  for  lodging  would  be  usually  inconven 
ient  and  often  impossible. 

Again,  hospitality  was  encouraged  in  many  parts 
of  the  world  on  account  of  the  possibility  of  the 
stranger's  turning  out  to  be  a  god,  or  a  distinguished 


GOVERNMENT  113 

personage  traveling  in  disguise.  "  Be  not  forgetful 
to  entertain  strangers,  for  thereby  some  have  enter 
tained  angels  unaware."  Monarchs  in  ruder  times 
were  accustomed  to  go  about  alone  and  undisclosed 
among  their  subjects  to  find  out  how  themselves  were 
regarded  by  those  under  them,  or  for  the  purpose  of 
gaining  information  relating  to  the  social  life  of  the 
peasantry.  Early  literature  abounds  in  stories  and 
legends  appertaining  to  such  visits  from  kings  and 
princes. 

Hospitality  has  always  been  a  noted  characteristic 
of  the  aborigines  of  the  New  World.  When  the 
explorers  landed  at  various  points  on  the  lonesome 
coasts  of  the  continent,  and  before  they  had  incited 
the  enmity  of  the  natives,  almost  the  first  gestures 
they  saw  and  expressions  they  heard  were  those 
interpreting  courtesy.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  refers 
thus  to  the  meeting  of  the  Pilgrim  Fathers  with  the 
Wampanoags :  — 

"Ah,  little  could  Samoset  offer  our  sire, — 

The  cabin,  the  corn-cake,  the  seat  by  the  fire; 
He  had  nothing  to  give, —  the  poor  lord  of  the  land, — 
But  he  gave  him  a  WELCOME, — his  heart  in  his  hand. 
The  tribe  of  the  sachem  has  melted  away, 

But  the  word  that  he  spoke  is  remembered  to-day, 
And  the  page  that  is  red  with  the  record  of  shame 
The  tear-drops  have  whitened  round  Samoset's 
name."  * 

Morgan,  with  many  citations,  testifies  to  the  "  uni 
versality  of  the  practice  of  hospitality  among  the 
Indian  tribes  of  America  at  the  epoch  of  European 
1  At  the  Banquet  to  the  Grand  Duke  Alexis,  fourth  stanza. 


114  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

discovery.  Among  all  these  forms,  as  stated  by 
different  observers,  the  substance  of  the  Iroquois 
law  of  hospitality  is  plainly  found,  namely:  If  a 
man  entered  an  Indian  house,  whether  a  villager,  a 
tribesman,  or  a  stranger,  and  at  whatever  hour  of 
the  day,  it  was  the  duty  of  the  woman  of  the  house 
to  set  food  before  him."  l 

The  prevalence  of  this  spirit  in  Pueblo  land  is  con 
stantly  referred  to,  and  verified.  Lieutenant  Joseph 
C.  Ives  was  at  the  Moki  Pueblo  in  1858,  and  says: 
"  Our  host  courteously  asked  us  to  be  seated  upon 
some  skins  spread  along  the  floor  against  the  wall, 
and  presently  his  wife  brought  in  a  vase  of  water 
and  a  tray  filled  with  a  singular  substance,  that 
looked  more  like  sheets  of  thin  blue  wrapping-paper 
rolled  up  in  bundles  than  anything  else  I  had  ever 
seen."  2 

General  Emory  visited  the  Pima  villages  in  1846, 
and  says :  "  Living  remote  from  the  civilized  world, 
they  are  seldom  visited  by  whites,  and  then  only  by 
those  in  distress,  to  whom  they  generously  furnish 
horses  and  food."  3 

Regarding  the  little  village  of  Sia,  on  the  banks 
of  the  Rio  Grande  in  New  Mexico,  Mrs.  Stephenson 
says :  "  Such  is  the  code  of  their  hospitality,  that  food 
is  always  offered  to  guests  as  long  as  a  morsel  re- 


1  Houses  and  House  Life,  p.  60. 

2  Quoted  by  Morgan  in  Houses  and  House  Life,  p.  56. 

*  Military  Reconnaissance  in  New  Mexico,  p.  85.    Quoted 
by  Morgan  in  Houses  and  House  Life,  p.  57. 


GOVERNMENT  115 

mains."  1  Here,  then,  as  in  other  parts  of  the  world 
where  similar  conditions  exist,  the  scarcity  of  food 
and  the  close  dependence  of  man  upon  man  for  aid 
has  fostered  a  spirit  of  kindness  to  strangers  which 
has  become  a  marked  trait  of  the  inhabitants. 

The  numerous  accounts  and  official  reports  of  the 
friendly  receptions,  by  the  poor  natives  along  the 
way,  to  the  Spanish  monks,  friars,  and  soldiers, 
coming  up  through  Mexico,  New  Mexico,  and  Ari 
zona  for  the  first  time,  are  the  best  of  evidences  for 
the  kind  of  spirit  of  these  men  toward  foreigners. 
They  came  out  of  their  mud  and  sod  houses  and 
greeted  the  strangers  as  messengers  from  the  skies ; 
loaded  them  with  gifts;  were  kind  to  them  in  sick 
ness;  gave  them  the  best  of  their  food,  contenting 
themselves  on  what  was  left;  and  volunteered  the 
best  information  they  had  regarding  distant  lands 
and  tribes.  They  formed  themselves  into  hunting 
expeditions,  and,  with  much  labor  and  hardship,  fur 
nished  the  visitors  the  best  of  their  wild  meats.  At 
great  inconvenience  and  sacrifice,  they  acted  as  guides 
and  protectors.  In  those  days  of  no  bridges  they 
assisted  the  strangers  in  crossing  the  rivers,  streams, 
and  flooded  ravines.  They  carried  water  and  provi 
sions  for  them  over  the  long,  hot,  and  dreary  wastes 
of  sand,  and  through  the  passes  of  the  steep  and  dan 
gerous  mountains.  Communities  that  were  at  enmity 
with  one  another  on  account  of  local  grievances 

1  Eleventh  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 

p.  12. 


n6  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

threw  aside  their  animosities  for  the  time;  joined 
in  welcome  greetings  whenever  the  expeditions  ap 
proached  ;  went  ahead  to  find  the  best  routes ;  spread, 
from  village  to  village,  the  news  of  the  coming  of  the 
white  strangers;  watched  them  through  the  night, 
and  contributed  to  their  thousands  of  individual 
needs  during  the  day. 

A  narrative  of  the  exploring  party  that  preceded 
the  great  Coronado  Expedition  relates  the  conduct 
of  the  Indians  toward  the  Spaniard,  Friar  Marcos: 
"  They  pressed  him  to  accept  their  offers  of  tur 
quoises  and  of  cow  skins  in  spite  of  his  persistent 
refusals.  At  one  village,  the  lord  of  the  place  and  his 
two  brothers  greeted  the  friar,  having  collars  of  tur 
quoises  about  their  necks,  while  the  rest  of  the  people 
were  all  encaconados,  as  they  called  it,  with  tur 
quoises,  which  hung  from  their  ears  and  noses.  Here 
they  supplied  their  visitor  with  deer,  rabbits,  and 
quail,  besides  a  great  abundance  of  corn  and  pifion 
seed."  l  The  "  cow  skins  "  in  the  foregoing  quotation 
are  evidently  buffalo  skins. 

Even  the  "  savage  Apaches  "  furnished  guides  and 
other  necessaries  for  expeditions.2 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  the  advent  of  the 
Spaniard  into  the  great  Southwest  was  always 
smooth  and  easy,  and  entirely  unaccompanied  by 
dissensions  and  clashes  on  the  part  of  the  two  races. 

1  Winship,  in  Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  vol.  i,  p.  358. 

2  Bandelier's  Southwestern  Historical  Contributions,  part 
v,  p.  197. 


GOVERNMENT  117 

The  aborigines  were  struck  with  wonder  at  the  dis 
play  of  the  new-comers.  They  looked  with  amaze 
ment  upon  the  gaudy  apparel  and  brilliant  trappings 
of  those  processions.  In  the  midst  of  all  this  admira 
tion  and  bewilderment,  some  hesitancy  would  natur 
ally  arise  at  times  on  the  part  of  the  simple  natives, 
when  the  strangers'  demands  seemed  unreasonable. 
Though  our  criticism  of  the  conduct  of  the  Span 
iards  toward  the  Indians  has  perceptibly  softened  in 
the  light  of  later  and  better  history,  yet,  according 
to  their  own  statements,  they  were  not  always  mild 
or  prudent  in  their  treatment  of  those  people,  to 
whom  they  were  under  so  many  obligations. 

One  of  the  first  outbreaks  was  that  which  arose 
when  the  negro  Estevan  reached  the  pueblo  of  Zuni. 
He  was  one  of  the  survivors  of  the  ill-starred  Nar- 
vaez  Expedition.  Those  men  had  made  their  way 
into  Mexico,  and  had  told  of  the  wonderful  riches 
and  strange  cities  reported  to  be  to  the  Northwest. 
The  eight  years'  experience  of  Estevan  among  the 
Indians,  his  knowledge  of  their  ways  of  living,  his 
familiarity  with  their  language,  his  proficiency  in 
intelligible  sign-making, —  all  contributed  toward 
making  him  a  very  valuable  guide  for  an  expedi 
tion  into  that  unexplored  country.  In  fact  he  had 
been  purchased  and  retained  by  Mendoza  for  this 
very  purpose.  Under  the  direct  authority  of  Friar 
Marcos,  he  guided  the  cavalcade,  and  was  sent  out 
in  advance  of  the  main  body,  but  he  took  unseemly 
advantages  of  his  trust.  He  demanded  of  the  na- 


n8  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

lives  beautiful  pieces  of  turquoise.  He  demanded 
from  them  several  handsome  girls.  In  fact  he  went 
through  the  country  like  a  king,  demanding  anything 
that  took  his  eye.  He  kept  a  body-guard  to  assist 
him  in  carrying  his  valuables.  With  bells  and  plumes 
and  in  gaudy  habiliments,  he  went  on  till  he  reached 
the  "  Seven  Cities  of  Cibola,"  or  what  is  to-day 
known  as  the  Zuni  pueblo.  His  insolence,  immoral 
ity,  and  foolhardiness  brought  him  into  trouble. 
He  informed  the  inhabitants  that  he  was  the  herald 
and  representative  of  white  men  who  would  come 
later.  Such  assertions  did  not  appeal  to  the  common 
sense  of  the  Pueblos.  That  a  black  man  could  be 
sent  to  them  as  an  ambassador  from  white  men 
was  not  in  accord  with  aboriginal  logic;  so  they 
killed  him. 

When  Coronado  came  northward  it  is  said :  "  The 
first  winter  spent  by  white  men  in  the  pueblos  of 
New  Mexico  was  a  severe  one.  Fortunately  for  the 
strangers,  however,  they  were  comfortably  domiciled 
in  the  best  houses  of  the  country,  in  which  the  own 
ers  had  left  a  plentiful  supply  of  food,  and  this  was 
supplemented  by  the  live-stock  brought  from  New 
Spain."  1  The  natives  finally  felt  themselves  imposed 
upon,  and  revolted.  A  fight  ensued.  The  natives  were 
induced  to  surrender,  and  then :  "  The  Indians  re 
ceived  an  ample  promise  of  protection  and  safety, 
but  the  captain  of  the  attacking  party  was  not  in- 

1Winship,  in  Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of 

Ethnology,  p.  392. 


GOVERNMENT  119 

formed  of  this,  and  in  obedience  to  the  general's 
orders  that  no  prisoners  should  be  taken,  he  directed 
that  the  captives  should  be  burned  as  a  warning  to  the 
neighboring  tribes.  This  affair  is  a  terrible  blot  on 
the  record  of  the  expedition  and  of  those  who  com 
posed  it."  l 

The  contact  of  the  Spaniards  with  the  Indians  of 
the  Southwest,  therefore,  was  not  one  of  constant 
mutual  happiness.  It  was  a  strange  advent  of  strange 
people  into  a  strange  land.  The  records  of  the  occur 
rence  are  filled  with  romance  and  vicissitude.  On 
each  side  there  was  enough  of  cruelty  and  bitterness, 
and,  on  each  side,  were  many  examples  of  tolerance, 
kindness,  and  sacrifice. 

The  various  communities  of  Pueblos  frequently 
quarreled  among  themselves,  peaceful  as  they  natur 
ally  were.  Certain  peculiarities  of  the  country  tended 
to  draw  them  together,  others  contributed  to  keep 
them  apart.  Scarcity  of  conveniences  and  fewness  of 
numbers  made  them  dependent  upon  one  another  and 
united  them  against  predatory  bands  of  their  own 
race;  yet,  they  would  wrangle  like  communities  of 
white  men  over  the  use  or  possession  of  salt  springs, 
mineral  hot  springs,  water-rights  and  water-courses, 
clay  beds,  and  turquoise-producing  fields,  when  a 
scarcity  of  supplies  of  these  things  was  threatened. 

But  the  social  centripetal  forces  far  exceeded  the 
centrifugal.  Inter-dependence,  hospitality,  commun- 

1  Winship,  in  Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  p.  393. 


120  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

ism,  must  have  become,  in  very  early  times,  powerful 
factors  in  their  social  life. 

The  question  of  danger  would  probably  receive 
first  consideration.  As  has  been  noticed,  they  were 
constantly  menaced  by  roving  tribes,  not  only  those 
near  at  hand  such  as  the  wild  Apaches,  but  even  those 
far  out  on  the  plains. 

Again,  in  taking  care  of  their  crops,  some  must 
work  in  the  fields,  some  must  watch  for  thieves  and 
murderers,  and  frequently  all  must  fight.  Since  sur 
prises  of  a  hostile  nature  were  thus  likely  to  come  at 
any  time,  each  member  of  the  village  felt  that  for  the 
safety  of  all  it  was  a  duty  to  be  constantly  on  the 
lookout  for  foes,  brute  and  human.  About  the  village 
and  out  on  the  farm  lands,  some  must  be  constantly 
on  guard  while  others  rest  and  sleep. 

In  the  construction  and  management  of  their  irri 
gating  systems,  many  men  would  be  called  into 
service,  and  advantages  of  co-operation  would  be 
very  apparent.  Morgan,  in  his  culture  classification, 
considers  this  industry  one  of  the  crowning  accom 
plishments  in  American  aboriginal  life,1  and  it  is 
evidently  true  that  this  rather  complicated  process 
of  farming  would  serve  to  awaken  the  mental  activi 
ties  of  these  people,  stimulate  their  inventive  genius, 
and  assist  very  materially  in  lifting  them  up  to  the 
higher  levels  of  culture.  Even  in  constructing  their 
rude  reservoirs,  or  cisterns,  for  holding  water  or 
for  catching  snow,  there  would  naturally  be  fostered 
1  Ancient  Society,  p.  10,  et  al. 


GOVERNMENT  121 

a  feeling  of  enterprise,  amiability,  and  mutual 
concern. 

Hunting  has  probably  never  been  an  important 
pursuit  in  their  daily  life  when  compared  with  agri 
culture;  yet,  before  the  introduction  of  domestic 
animals,  the  accumulated  amount  of  game  obtained 
in  the  course  of  the  year  must  have  been  considerable. 
The  custom  of  surrounding  animals  and  hurling 
missiles  at  them  from  all  sides,  or  of  driving  them 
into  traps  and  enclosures  and  there  despatching  them, 
could  not  be  successfully  carried  on  without  the 
employment  of  squads  of  men.  Whatever  the  meth 
ods  of  capture  happened  to  be,  the  advantages  of 
groups  over  individuals  were  self-evident. 

Again,  the  servile  dependence  of  the  inhabitants 
upon  the  forces  of  nature  tended  to  make  them  com 
munistic.  They  dreaded  those  powers,  the  evidences 
of  which  they  saw  and  felt  but  could  not  understand. 
They  were  very  superstitious.  Matters  of  trivial  im 
portance  often  very  deeply  affected  their  daily  plans. 
Lightning  striking  a  pueblo  would  frequently  be  a 
sufficient  reason  for  abandoning  it  and  building  an 
other.  A  mere  toothache  of  one  of  the  shamans 
might  be  taken  as  evidence  of  displeasure  on  the  part 
of  the  ruling  powers  of  earth  and  skies,  and  the 
village  must  make  many  sacrifices  to  appease  the 
wrath  of  these  presumably  offended  deities.  So  fear 
drew  them  together.  They  met  in  secret  in  the  estufa 
to  practise  ceremonies  for  warding  off  evil.  They 
chanted  and  danced  conjointly  in  order  to  gain  favors 


122  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

from  the  powers  that  be.  They  turned  to  one  another 
for  sympathy  in  the  presence  of  diseases  and  disas 
ters,  the  fundamental  laws  and  principles  of  which 
were  beyond  their  comprehension. 

One  of  the  most  striking  characteristics  of  primi 
tive  society  is  the  habit  of  reckoning  kinship  through 
the  female  line.  Civilized  nations  consider  the  father 
and  husband  the  head  of  the  family. 

Among  the  American  Indians,  mother-right  has 
been  the  prevailing  custom.  In  the  words  of  Fiske: 
"  Throughout  aboriginal  America,  with  one  or  two 
exceptions,  kinship  was  reckoned  through  females 
only,  and  in  the  exceptional  instances  the  vestiges  of 
that  system  were  so  prominent  as  to  make  it  clear 
that  the  change  had  been  but  recently  effected."  * 

The  most  fully  developed  governmental  organiza 
tion  of  these  people  consisted  of  four  divisions,  each 
with  its  own  functions  quite  clearly  defined.  Society, 
with  them  was  established  on  clanship,  not  on  family. 
Using  the  terms  employed  by  Morgan  in  his  "  An 
cient  Society,"  one  finds,  as  the  first  or  smallest  of 
these  social  components,  the  gens,  founded  on  kin. 
It  consists  of  a  small  number  of  persons  firmly  united 
by  the  bond  of  the  same  maternal  ancestry,  and  dis 
tinguished  from  other  organizations  of  the  same 
kind  by  a  gentile  name.  We  use  the  word  maternal, 
because  the  adoption  of  maternal  in  contrast  to 
paternal  ties  was  the  oldest  and  perhaps  the  most 
characteristic  custom.  The  second  was  the  phratry,  or 

1  Discovery  of  America,  vol.  i,  p.  56. 


GOVERNMENT  123 

brotherhood,  as  this  word,  borrowed  from  the  Greek 
organization,  implies.  It  consisted  of  several  gentes 
bound  together  for  special  purposes,  generally  social 
and  religious.  The  third  was  the  tribe,  speaking  one 
dialect  and  holding  in  possession  a  limited  amount 
of  territory.  The  last  and  largest  was  the  confeder 
acy,  consisting  of  several  kindred  and  contiguous 
tribes  united  for  mutual  advantages,  particularly 
those  of  defense. 

This  system  is  interesting  on  account  of  its  uni 
versality.  Morgan,  in  the  first  chapter  of  "  Homes 
and  House  Life  of  the  American  Aborigines,"  says: 
"  The  gentile  organization  opens  to  us  one  of  the 
oldest  and  most  widely  prevalent  institutions  of 
mankind.  It  furnished  the  nearly  universal  plan  of 
government  of  ancient  society, —  Asiatic,  European, 
African,  American,  and  Australian." 

The  division  which  is  particularly  interesting  to  us 
in  this  connection  is  the  first,  or  gens.  It  is  perhaps 
more  often  called  clan.  Whatever  the  name,  it  is 
the  real  basis  of  tribal  society.  While  it  might  be, 
as  already  noticed,  a  single  male  line  of  ancestry, 
as  a  matter  of  fact  it  nearly  always  has  meant  a 
company  of  blood  relatives,  consisting  of  the  mother, 
her  children,  her  daughters'  children,  her  grand 
daughters'  children,  and  so  on  down  through  the 
female  side  of  the  descendants. 

Why  is  this  custom  so  prevalent  in  primitive 
society? 

Answers  are  seemingly  not  difficult  to  find;  at 


124  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

least,  many  plausible  theories  have  been  advanced  by 
eminent  ethnologists.  The  practice  arose  in  an 
archaic  period.  Marriage  was  necessarily  in  a  cha 
otic  state.  The  gens,  therefore,  existing  as  it  did, 
spared  the  confusion  and  embarrassment  which 
otherwise  might  arise,  "  when/'  in  the  words  of 
Morgan,  "  the  paternity  of  children  was  not  certainly 
ascertainable,  and  when  their  maternity  afforded  the 
only  certain  criterion  of  descents."  *  Members  of  the 
same  gens  claim  origin  from  some  object,  usually 
an  animal,  such  as  bear  or  wolf,  from  which  they 
take  their  name,  and  which  they  hold  as  sacred.  The 
object  becomes  the  totem  of  the  group.  The  whole 
body  of  these  relatives  usually  occupies  the  same 
portion  of  the  village,  forming  a  sort  of  colony 
and  taking  upon  itself  certain  duties  and  respon 
sibilities,  bearing  upon  the  conduct  of  its  own  mem 
bers  and  the  general  affairs  of  the  village.  Each 
gens  often  has  its  estufa,  or  chamber,  for  secret 
ceremonials. 

There  was  nowhere  such  a  family  bond  as  we 
find  in  civilization.  Marriage  among  members  of  the 
same  gens  was  prohibited;  therefore,  since  the  ties 
of  clanship  were  very  strong  and  the  links  of  matri 
mony  very  weak,  there  was  no  harmonious,  firmly 
united  family,  but  rather  a  loosely  constructed 
household.  Since  the  children  belonged  to  the 
mother,  and  the  mother  was  a  member  of  a  gens 
different  from  that  of  the  father,  there  was  always 
1  Ancient  Society,  p.  68. 


GOVERNMENT  125 

a  wide  gulf  separating  the  individuals  of  the  domi 
cile.  The  husband  was  isolated,  perhaps  simply  tol 
erated.  Plans  and  secrets  existed  among  the  members 
of  the  gens  rather  than  between  husband  and  wife. 
In  the  words  of  Bandelier :  "  The  affairs  of  the 
father's  clan  did  not  concern  his  wife  or  his  children, 
whereas  a  neighbor  might  be  his  confidant  on  such 
matters.  The  mother,  son,  and  daughter  spoke  among 
themselves  of  matters  of  which  the  father  was  not 
entitled  to  know,  and  about  which  he  scarcely  ever 
felt  enough  curiosity  to  inquire."  1 

This  social  and  governmental  system  prevailed  in 
the  Southwest  when  the  Spaniards  first  came,  though 
Bandelier  says :  "  The  Pueblos  were  approaching  a 
state  of  transition  from  mother-right  to  descent  in- 
male  line."  2  The  woman  owned  the  house  or  com 
partment  which  she  occupied.  She  owned  the  greater 
part  of  the  personal  property.  She  owned  the  chil 
dren.  She  was  the  chief  business  agent  of  the  house 
hold.  She  managed  the  marriages.  A  man  wishing 
a  wife  brought  gifts  to  the  betrothed,  and  presented 
them  on  the  wedding-day.  The  marriage  ceremonies 
were  usually  simple  but  differed  greatly  according 
to  locality.  The  bonds  were  never  strong.  Complete 
separation  could  take  place  at  the  option  of  either 
party,  and,  when  it  did  occur,  the  ex-husband  threw 
his  blanket  over  his  shoulder  and  returned  to  his 
clan.  Here  as  elsewhere  among  the  tribes  of  the  race, 

1  The  Delight  Makers,  p.  14. 

1  Investigations  in  the  Southwest,  part  i,  p.  161. 


126  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

"Children  were  the  strongest  bond;  for,  if  the 
mother  was  discarded,  it  was  the  unwritten  law  of 
the  red  man  that  she  should  herself  retain  those 
whom  she  had  borne  or  fostered."  l 

Social  and  governmental  regulations  of  the 
aborigines  were  everywhere  disturbed  by  local 
conditions.  On  the  plains,  for  example,  the  constant 
wanderings  of  the  tribes  made  strict,  complicated, 
and  well-sustained  organizations  impossible.  Ties 
were  loose,  and  easily  dissolved.  The  boundless  ex 
panse  of  unobstructed  territory  tended  to  make 
restrictions  and  formalities  distasteful.  So  the  vicis 
situdes  of  the  Pueblos  have  often  weakened  or 
destroyed  their  social  and  governmental  organiza 
tions.  For  instance,  wedlock  within  the  gens  is  for 
bidden,  but  the  rule  has  been  frequently  broken.  In 
the  smaller  villages,  this  infringement  has  sometimes 
seemed  necessary,  and  hence  has  been  encouraged. 
The  matter  becomes  to  the  inhabitants  a  question  of 
existence;  so,  as  Mrs.  Stevenson  says  of  one  of 
the  feebler  pueblos  of  to-day :  "At  present  there  is 
nothing  for  the  Sia  to  do  but  to  break  these  laws,  if 
they  would  preserve  the  remnants  of  their  people."  2 
The  practice  of  blood  revenge,  which  is  so  very 
common  among  the  early  races,  has  prevailed  among 
the  Pueblos.  The  stage  at  which  bloodshed  may  be 

1  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States  (Centenary  edi 
tion),  vol.  ii,  p.  419. 

2  Eleventh  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
P-  19. 


GOVERNMENT  127 

atoned  for  by  a  property  substitute  was  long  ago 
reached,  and  since  then  matters  relating  to  retribu 
tion  are  managed  by  gentes.  A  murder  is  particularly 
a  crime  against  the  gens.  The  peaceful  inclinations 
of  the  sedentary  Indians  have  rendered  criminal 
proceedings  of  less  importance  than  in  many  other 
parts  of  aboriginal  America.  On  account  of  their 
great  superstition,  witchcraft  has  caused  much 
trouble  among  these  people.  Many  innocents  have 
been  obliged  to  endure  pains  and  tortures,  and  to 
submit  to  death  to  satisfy  the  delusions  of  the  multi 
tude.  Supposed  sorcerers,  particularly  the  old  and 
unfortunate  members  of  the  village,  have  been 
objects  of  special  wrath,  and  have  suffered  horrible 
deaths. 

In  the  earlier  stages  of  primitive  society,  land  is 
owned,  or  rather  worked,  in  common.  Clans  have 
certain  holdings  which  the  members  use  for  agricul 
tural  purposes.  Occasionally,  a  man,  after  tilling  a 
piece  of  ground  for  several  seasons,  seems  to  acquire 
by  silent  consent  a  sort  of  special  claim  to  it.  In 
building  a  house  or  compartment,  the  man,  wife, 
and  perhaps  a  whole  gens  unite  their  efforts.  Noth 
ing  corresponding  to  wages,  as  we  understand  the 
term,  is  paid.  Sometimes  the  owner  of  the  building 
provides  food  for  the  laborers.  After  the  house  is 
completed,  the  wife,  as  has  elsewhere  been  noticed, 
owns  and  rules  it.  A  few  things,  like  blankets  and 
weapons,  are  the  property  of  the  husband.  It  may 
be  said  generally,  regarding  the  Pueblos,  that  the 


128  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

^  men  jointly  claim  the  land,  the  women  individually 
the  dwellings,  and  the  clans  the  crops. 

On  account  of  the  physical  features  of  the  country, 
making  it  necessary  for  the  villages  to  be  strung  far 
apart  along  the  water-courses,  and  presenting  scores, 
perhaps  hundreds  of  miles  of  barren  land  between 
stream  and  stream,  there  did  not  grow  up  a  confed 
eracy  to  be  compared  with  that  of  the  Aztecs  or  the 
Iroquois.  The  conditions  were  of  such  a  kind  that  it 
would  be  difficult,  or  impossible  to  have  a  strong  and 
complicated  system  of  government  similar  to  that 
existing  on  the  banks  of  the  Mohawk  or  in  the  cele 
brated  valley  of  Mexico.  There  were  alliances, 
however,  formed  for  the  mutual  protection  of  the 
villages,  and  this  bond,  loose  as  it  was,  proved  at 
times  very  effective.  When  Coronado  came  into  the 
country,  he  found  each  village  governed  by  a  council 
of  old  men,  and  the  native  government  is  much  the 
same  to-day.  Each  pueblo  acts  independently  in 
selecting  its  own  governor  and  councilors,  and  in 
making  its  own  laws.  All  matters  of  importance  to 
the  community  are  discussed  and  disposed  of  in  the 
estufa,  and  are  announced  afterward  to  the  villagers 
by  the  criers.  Questions  are  settled  by  a  majority 
vote.  The  councilors  are  supposed  to  represent  the 
clans.  In  times  of  peace,  routine  business  is  in  the 
hands  of  the  civil  chief.  In  times  of  war,  supremacy 
resides  in  the  war-chief,  who  usually  obtains  his 
office  through  election. 


CHAPTER    VI 

EDUCATION 

INDIAN  children  follow  the  occupations  of  their 
ancestors;  and,  in  doing  so,  they  adhere  to  a 
practice  which  is  very  widespread  among  the 
peoples  of  earth.  As  a  rule,  however,  this  custom  is 
far  more  prevalent  in  lower  than  in  upper  grades  of 
culture.  In  the  complexity  and  differentiation  of 
modern  life,  especially  modern  civilized  life  in  Amer 
ica,  there  is  no  assurance,  there  is  hardly  a  proba 
bility,  that  a  boy  will  carry  on  the  kind  of  work  which 
has  engaged  the  attention  of  his  father.  There  is  in 
these  days  a  strong  tendency  toward  more  narrow 
vocations,  toward  specialization,  whether  the  work 
be  mental  or  manual ;  and  the  son's  energies  are  likely 
to  run  in  a  more  contracted  channel  than  did  those  of 
his  parent.  New  inventions  frequently  throw  a  man's 
trade  into  desuetude  in  the  course  of  a  decade,  and 
compel  him,  in  middle  life  or  even  in  old  age,  to  seek 
some  strange  employment  which  generally  proves 
extremely  irksome.  Such  is  the  outgrowth  of  a 
complicated  civilization  in  the  hands  of  a  restless, 
ingenious  people. 

Among    uncivilized    races    this    is    not    the    case. 
Advancement  during  a  limited  period  —  say  in  the 
course  of  a  century  —  is  very  slow,  often  impercep- 
9  129 


I3o  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

tible.  Generation  after  generation  witnesses  practi 
cally  unchanged  conditions.  The  son  struggles  with 
the  same  forces  of  nature  and  in  precisely  the  same 
„  way  as  did  his  ancestors.  He  fights  men  and  beasts 
with  the  same  weapons,  or,  at  least,  with  the  same 
kinds  of  weapons,  that  were  used  by  his  father  and 
grandfather. 

There  are  certain  elements  of  education  which 
from  the  very  nature  of  primitive  life  are  of  special 
importance,  and  must  be  cultivated.  One  of  the  first 
of  these  is  the  cultivation  of  the  power  of  observa 
tion.  The  Indian  must  learn  in  early  life  to  be 
vigilant.  Thrown  into  a  world  of  danger,  he  must  be 
constantly  on  the  lookout.  His  very  life  depends 
upon  his  quickness  of  perception,  therefore  he  must 
watch  for  unusual  signs  or  disturbances.  He  has  to 
live  close  to  nature.  Earth  and  skies  are  his  text 
books.  He  watches  the  heavens  and  becomes  a 
meteorologist.  From  necessity  he  comes  to  be  a 
student  of  clouds  and  sunshine.  He  notices  the  blow 
ing  of  the  winds,  and  prepares  accordingly  for  storm 
or  calm.  No  atmospheric  disturbances,  whether 
general  or  local,  escape  his  attention.  He  becomes 
the  best  of  weather-prophets,  for  his  outdoor  life 
makes  him  such.  As  a  hunter,  trapper,  or  warrior,  he 
learns  to  notice  in  his  pathway  the  slightest  trace  of 
man  or  beast.  A  bent  branch  of  a  tree,  a  broken  twig, 
or  a  disturbed  leaf,  furnishes  to  this  child  of  the 
forest  a  fund  of  information,  which  his  more  civil 
ized  brother  would  never  surmise.  "  His  knowledge 


EDUCATION  131 

of  the  habits  of  animals  surpassed  that  of  Audubon. 
The  shrewd  devices  with  which  he  snared  them 
would  have  elicited  the  applause  of  Ulysses;  the 
clearness  of  his  vision  excelled  that  of  the  oldest 
sailor;  the  sharpness  of  his  hearing  was  not  equaled 
by  that  of  the  deer."  1 

A  second  important  feature  of  aboriginal  educa 
tion  is  the  power  of  imitation.  The  children  are 
taught  to  do  what  they  see  their  elders  doing.  With 
their  childish  weapons  they  hunt  the  smaller  game, 
chasing  squirrels  and  rabbits  and  lying  in  wait  for 
wild  fowl.  They  run  about  the  fields  and  through 
the  village,  endeavoring  to  capture  one  another  with 
lariats.  They  pelt  with  stones,  or  shoot  with  blunt 
arrows,  the  unfortunate  dogs,  pet  bears,  or  other 
animals  in  the  possession  of  the  members  of  the 
village.  Beast  or  bird  is  unmercifully  tormented  in 
order  that  the  youth  may  have  something  by  means 
of  which  he  may  test  his  strength,  speed,  or  cunning. 
The  boy  is  taught  by  his  parents  to  produce  the 
noises  made  by  the  wild  beasts.  He  becomes  such 
an  adept  in  his  imitations  that  he  deceives  not  only 
human  beings  but  even  the  animals  themselves.  He 
produces  so  cleverly  such  sounds  as  the  hoot  of  the 
owl,  the  bark  of  the  wolf,  and  the  quack  of  the  duck, 
that  these  denizens  of  the  wood  and  plain  are  drawn 
into  snares  and  captured  with  comparative  ease. 
When  the  youth  becomes  large  and  strong,  he  goes 

"McMaster's  History  of  the  People  of  the  United  States, 
vol.  i,  p.  6. 


132  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

out  on  hunting  expeditions,  and  the  father  is  as  much 
pleased  when  his  son  kills  his  first  deer  or  buffalo  as 
is  the  white  father  whose  son  receives  a  high-school 
diploma. 

.  Again,  many  of  the  tribes  require  from  the  chil 
dren  a  military  discipline  as  rigid  as  that  demanded 
among  the  ancient  Spartans  or  Persians.  When  very 
small,  the  boy  engages  in  sham  battles  with  his 
comrades,  and  often  his  pretended  warfare  comes 
close  to  reality.  The  flying  arrows  are  headless  but 
pain-producing  and  metal-trying.  The  dried-mud 
missiles  are  not  deadly  but  uncomfortable.  These 
engagements  are  accompanied  with  advances,  re 
treats,  skulkings,  and  shouts. 

Perhaps  on  the  whole,  physical  endurance  has  been 
the  most  characteristic  feature  of  Indian  training. 
The  youth  must  accustom  himself  to  go  for  days 
without  food.  He  must  endure  excruciating  pains 
and  bear  self-inflicted  tortures.  Writing  about  the 
Creeks,  Starr  says :  "  The  Creek  boys  had  a  pretty 
hard  time.  They  were  made  to  swim  in  the  coldest 
weather;  they  were  scratched  with  broken  glass  or 
fish  teeth,  from  head  to  foot,  till  the  blood  ran ;  these 
things  were  intended  to  toughen  them  to  the  endur 
ance  of  pain."  1 

Regarding  the  training  of  the  boys  of  the  Cali 
fornia  Indians,  Bancroft  speaks  of  the  following 
harsh  practice :  "  A  youth  to  become  a  warrior  must 
first  undergo  a  severe  ordeal;  his  naked  body  was 

1  American  Indians,  p.  129. 


EDUCATION  133 

beaten  with  stinging  nettles  until  he  was  literally 
unable  to  move ;  then  he  was  placed  upon  the  nest  of 
a  species  of  virulent  ant,  while  his  friends  irritated 
the  insects  by  stirring  them  up  with  sticks.  The  in 
furiated  ants  swarmed  over  every  part  of  the 
sufferer's  body,  into  his  eyes,  his  ears  his  mouth,  his 
nose,  causing  indescribable  pain."  1 

Among  the  Indians  of  the  Southwest  in  prehistoric 
times,  the  nearest  approach  to  a  schoolhouse  was  the 
estufa,  where  various  ceremonies  were  held,  or  a 
room  in  one  of  the  dwellings,  where,  during  the  long 
evenings,  the  young  and  old  sat  by  the  fire  and 
received  information  from  the  aged  instructor,  the 
patriarch  of  the  pueblo.  Only  during  the  winter 
months  are  such  gatherings  practicable,  for  the  sum 
mer  season  must  be  given  up  to  the  care  of  the  crops. 
There  are  in  each  town  several  of  these  old  men 
who  from  long  practice  become  excellent  reciters. 
The  scene  is  impressive.  Ranged  around  the  room 
in  their  highly  colored  blankets,  members  of  the 
village  sit  and  listen  to  the  tales  that  have  been 
handed  down  from  generation  to  generation.  The 
fire  throws  a  vivid  glare  upon  the  group.v  There  are 
no  couches  or  chairs,  but  the  floor  of  adobe  or  stone, 
with  skins  or  blankets  scattered  over  it,  serves  the 
purpose.  No  lamps  flicker,  for  there  are  no  lamps. 
No  night-curtains  are  drawn,  for  there  are  no  win 
dows  through  which  enemies  may  look.  The  walls 

1  Native  Races,  vol.  i,  p.  414. 


134  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

are  bare  with  the  exception  of  the  war-clubs,  bows 
and  arrows,  and  a  few  simple  utensils  hanging  from 
pegs  or  rafters.  The  learners  are  not  classified 
according  to  age  or  size.  There  is  no  controversy 
over  adjustment  of  grades  or  fitness  of  text-books. 
The  pupils  vary  from  the  lisping,  wondering  child 
to  the  survivor  of  a  score  of  battles.  The  gray  and 
shriveled  chronicler,  amid  these  peculiar  surround 
ings,  imparts  to  his  audience  a  sort  of  homely 
philosophy  of 

"  the  wandering  moon,  and  of  the  sun 
The  laboring  eclipses;  and  of  men, 
and  of  showers,  and  fires  of  heaven." 

Again,  the  language  becomes  mystic  and  dreamy, 
as  he  talks  of  the  origin  of  things,  the  miracles  of 
nature,  the  myths  of  the  winds,  clouds,  stars,  snow, 
vegetation,  seasons,  things  great  and  small,  abstract 
and  concrete. 

Again,  the  theme  changes,  and  the  blood  of  the 
listeners  is  stirred  and  the  eyes  flash,  as  the  old  man 
tells  in  simple  and  impassioned  language  the  stories 
of  the  wars  with  the  dreaded  Apaches  and  Navahos. 
He  goes  back  to  the  sufferings  and  privations  of 
ancestors,  just  as  in  the  New  England  schoolhouse 
to-day  the  boys  and  girls  are  thrilled  with  the  story 
of  the  hardship  and  misery  of  the  Pilgrims. 

On  another  evening  the  topic  may  revert  to  the 
origin  of  earth  and  skies,  the  birth  of  the  people, 
their  first  appearance  in  the  land,  the  cause  of  their 


EDUCATION  135 

coming,  the  genesis  of  their  customs,  manners,  and 
religion. 

"  And  tales  we  tell  by  the  evening  flame 

Of  how  the  earth  was  made, 
And  the  tribes  came  up  from  the  Under-world 

To  people  plain  and  glade, — 
Tales  that  will  echo  round  our  hearths 

Till  the  last  glow  shall  fade; 

And  of  the  two  immortal  youths, 

Twin  children  of  the  Sun, 
Who  eastward  led  their  faltering  bands 

To  find  where  morn  begun, — 
To  gain  the  stable  midmost  lands, 

And  the  trembling  borders  shun; 

And  of  P6-shai-an-k'ya,  the  master, 

Whose  help  we  never  lose, 
And  said  that  whoso  smites  a  man 

His  own  heart  doth  bruise. 
Of  Earth  and  the  Gods  he  taught  us, — 

How  slope  and  plain  to  till, 

And  the  streams  that  fall  from  the  mountain  snows 

To  turn  and  store  at  will; 
And  how  to  trace  the  glorious  Sun 

North  and  south  to  his  goal; 
And  straight,  when  the  body's  life  is  done, 

Set  free  the  prisoned  soul."1 

Again,  the  monologue  runs  in  a  vein  of  pleasantry, 
by  way  of  stories  of  animals  with  which  all  are 
familiar,  especially  the  rabbit,  coyote,  bear,  antelope, 
mouse,  rattlesnake,  magpie,  woodpecker,  eagle, 
horned-toad,  and  their  kindred.2  The  wit,  wisdom, 
cowardice,  ambition,  truthfulness,  deceit,  bravery, 
foolishness,  sloth,  swiftness,  curiosity,  love,  and  hate 
of  the  various  creatures  are  portrayed  through  these 

1  Proctor:  The  Song  of  the  Ancient  People. 
"Lummis:  The  Man  Who  Married  the  Moon. 


136  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

legends  and  traditions.  The  antelope  adopts  a  child 
in  a  manner  suggestive  of  the  fabulous  wolf  of  old 
Rome.  The  moral  of  the  tortoise  and  the  hare,  suited 
to  primitive  conceptions,  draws  forth  generous  ap 
plause  from  the  listeners.  The  mouse  of  the  Indian 
country  gnaws  the  warrior's  bow-string  and  thus 
disarms  him,  bringing  "to  mind  the  story  of  the 
Esopian  cable-severing  rodent.  Old  and  young  are 
thrown  into  fits  of  merriment  over  accounts  of  trick 
contests  between  animal  and  animal.  A  very  tame 
story,  a  very  artless  remark,  or  a  very  mild  joke, 
makes  the  mud  walls  resound  with  unfeigned 
laughter.  There  is  an  element  of  heartiness  and  sim 
plicity  about  their  mirth  which  reminds  one  of  the 
joyful  exuberance  of  childhood.  Indeed,  they  all, 
even  the  oldest,  have  the  predominant  characteristics 
of  children. 

The  speech  of  the  Indians,  in  general,  is  full  of 
figures,  taken  from  suggestive  objects  about  them. 
They  have  no  classical  models  from  which  to  borrow 
trope  or  metaphor.  The  embellishments  come  to 
them  at  first-hand  from  the  rugged  mountains,  dark 
caves,  floating  clouds,  fearful  storms,  and  dazzling 
sunshine, —  stimuli  that  are  never  wanting  in  this 
southwestern  land  of  strange  and  interesting  objects. 
'  In  addition  to  this  general  method  of  imparting 
knowledge,  which,  of  course,  is  given  in  a  desultory 
way,  there  is  a  kind  of  instruction  which  is  com 
municated  for  special  purposes.  There  are  sacred 
traditions  which  must  be  preserved.  There  are  myths, 


EDUCATION 


137 


tenets,  and  legends  to  be  transmitted  from  the  older 
ones  to  the  younger  with  exactness  of  language.  A 
certain  number  of  boys  are  therefore  chosen  from  the 
youths  of  the  village,  to  whom  this  specific  instruc 
tion  is  given.  The  subject-matter  is  learned  word  for 
word  from  the  lips  of  the  teacher.xOn  the  authority 
of  Morgan,1  there  are  three  old  men  in  the  Taos 
pueblo  whose  special  duty  is  to  impart  this  kind  of 
knowledge  to  a  few  young  men,  selected  according 
to  age  and  capabilities.  The  Zunis  have  a  real  epic, 
a  sort  of  Iliad  or  primitive  Bible  in  verse,  originating 
in  far  remote  times  and  transmitted  by  oral  com 
munication  from  generation  to  generation.  '  This 
sacred  work  is  publicly  recited  at  rare  but  regularly 
recurring  intervals.  It  is  in  four  divisions,  corre 
sponding  to  four  books,  and  each  of  these  is  divided 
into  four  chapters.  Its  recitation  occupies  two  long 
evenings.  It  is  in  perfect  rhyme  and  rhythm,  and  is 
highly  poetic.  When  Mr.  Gushing  first  came  to  Zufii, 
the  charge  of  the  Bible  was  officially  entrusted  to  an 
aged,  white-haired,  and  blind  old  man,  a  veritable 
native  Homer.  This  was  the  sole  duty  of  the  bard, 
and  he  was  supported  by  the  public.  He  died,  and  the 
succession  came  to  one  of  four  whom  he  had  trained 
up.  These  four  are  continually  instructing  youth 
qualified  for  the  highest  trust  by  birth  and  lineage."  2 
Much  of  race-history,  tradition,  and  mythology 
is  faithfully  kept  and  handed  down  through  the 

1  Houses  and  House  Life  of  the  American  Aborigines,  p.  152. 

2  Sylvester  Baxter:  Harper's  Magazine,  vol.  Ixv,  p.  76. 


138  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

various  societies.  These  are  in  some  respects  the 
most  conspicuous  and  interesting  educational  insti 
tutions  of  the  whole  social  life^of  the  Southwest. 
Some  of  them  are  exoteric  and  hold  their  ceremonials 
on  festal  days,  with  both  sexes  taking  part.  Others, 
such  as  the  Snake  order  and  the  Antelope  order,  are 
strictly  esoteric;  and  males  only  are  members.  These 
societies  of  the  Southwest  in  the  majority  of  cases  are 
clan  organizations,  and  the  initiatory  ceremonies  are 
rigid  and  complex.  The  novitiates  are  usually  chil 
dren;  and  their  association  with  these  various  orders 
becomes  a  very  great  part,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the 
most  important  part  of  what  may  be  called  their 
technical  education.  "  These  initiations  differ  in 
detail  among  the  various  pueblos,  but  are  essentially 
similar.  It  is  through  these  initiations  that  the  child 
becomes  a  rightful  member  of  the  pueblo,  shares  in 
the  communal  rights  and  privileges,  and  is  placed 
under  the  protection  of  the  tribal  gods.  To  the 
primitive  mind,  these  initiatory  ceremonies  are  so 
necessary,  so  sacred  and  impressive,  that  all  their 
features  are  indelibly  stamped  in  memory.  Taken  in 
connection  with  the  elaborate  rites  and  ceremonies 
which  must  later  be  learned,  they  form  the  larger 
part  of  their  purposeful  education."  1 

In  the  Pueblo  country,  instruction  has  probably 
never  become  so  well  systemized  as  among  the  Az 
tecs,  according  to  the  writings  of  Prescott 2  and 

'Spencer:  Education  of  the  Pueblo  Child,  p.  82. 
8  Conquest  of  Mexico,  vol.  i,  p.  69,  et  al. 


EDUCATION  139 

Bancroft.1  In  the  Mexican  Confederacy,  there  was 
the  culmination  of  aboriginal  educational  progress 
in  North  America.  The  youth  of  both  sexes  were 
placed  under  the  care  of  a  strongly  organized  priest 
hood.  The  boys  were  taught  how  to  decorate  shrines, 
and  to  chant  and  dance  at  religious  festivals.  They 
were  instructed  in  the  traditions  of  their  tribes;  they 
learned  to  read  and  write  hieroglyphics;  they  were 
taught  the  fundamental  principles  of  their  govern 
ment,  also  rudimentary  astronomy,  natural  history, 
and,  as  a  culminating  accomplishment,  military  tac 
tics.  The  girls  were  trained  in  religious  and  house 
hold  duties,  and  received  special  instruction  in  the  art 
of  weaving  and  embroidering  cloth,  for  the  altars. 
The  whole  system  is  interesting  when  placed  in  com 
parison  with  that  of  the  Pueblos,  for  the  two  peoples 
are  supposed  to  have  reached  practically  the  same 
rank  of  culture. 

The  differences  in  the  natural  features  of  the 
respective  countries  account  for  the  principal  dis 
similarities  in  education;  and  the  variation  is  more  a 
matter  of  quantity  than  quality.  The  aborigines  of 
the  Aztec  Confederacy  were  far  greater  in  number, 
were  more  compact,  and  were  much  more  thoroughly 
organized  than  those  of  New  Mexico  and  Arizona, 
who  were  obliged  to  live  in  comparatively  small 
villages  far  apart  from  one  another. 

In  the  topography  of  the  two  countries,  how 
ever,  may  be  found  many  common  characteristics, 

1  Native  Races,  vol.  ii,  p.  240,  et  seq. 


THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 


and  in  their  whole  practice  of  education  are  many 
of  the  same  fundamentals,  and  these  in  turn  are 
traceable  back  to  similar  sources.  In  both  lands 
was  that  all-pervading  superstition,  that  fear  of 
innovation,  that  horror  of  experiment,  that  hide 
bound  reverence  for  ceremonial  repetition.  There 
s  as  strong  an  aversion  to  changes  of  custom,  to 
>riginality  of  thought,  or  to  freedom  of  action,  as 
pould  ever  be  found  in  isolated,  tradition-loving, 
ancestor-worshiping  old  China.  Through  the  south 
west  portion  of  the  United  States  and  for  thousands 
of  miles  on  down  along  the  borders  of  the  Pacific, 
the  mode  of  aboriginal  life  has  been  similar.  Agri 
culture  has  been  chiefly  relied  upon  as  a  means  of 
subsistence,  and  this  always  means  a  sedentary 
life;  and  out  of  this,  in  turn,  under  such  peculiar 
physical  conditions  as  exist  in  the  Southwest,  would 
naturally  grow  up  the  many  secret  societies  with 
their  ancient  customs  and  reactionary  influences. 
The  thoughts  of  the  natives  have  thus  been  kept 
upon  the  past.  Their  reasoning  powers  have  been 
dwarfed,  and  even  their  imagination  has  been  more 
or  less  fossilized.  While  there  have  been  the  above- 
mentioned  influences  on  the  positive  side,  there  have 
been  many  others  on  the  negative,  all  tending  in 
the  same  direction.  We  are  constantly  reminded 
that  such  drawbacks  as  the  lack  of  a  suitable 
alphabet,  the  ignorance  of  iron-smelting,  and  the 
need  of  domestic  animals,  seriously  crippled  all 
progress. 


EDUCATION  141 

Keeping  now  in  mind  the  various  prominent 
physical  features  of  the  Southwest,  and  realizing 
that  they  all  constitute  a  great  educative  agency,  one 
may  fittingly  ask  what  kind  of  human  product  will 
tend  to  develop  on  a  tract  of  arid  land,  broken  up 
into  dreary  plains  and  rugged  mountains,  settled 
here  and  there  by  a  scanty  population,  which  has  been 
unmolested  by  higher  culture  and  forced  into  com 
munal  life  by  peculiar  systems  of  labor  and  through 
constant  fear  of  roving  enemies. 

Noticing  first  the  physical  man,  we  find  these 
people  of  medium  stature,  or  perhaps,  as  a  whole, 
slightly  undersized,  with  noteworthy  development  of 
those  powers  and  proclivities  which  are  constantly 
encouraged  and  exercised.  Having  no  burden  - 
bearing  animals,  they  were  able  to  endure  great  loads. 
The  women  were  accustomed  to  carry  immense  jars 
of  water  on  their  heads.  Both  sexes  would  drag  or 
carry  with  comparative  ease  enormous  quantities 
of  wood,  clay,  or  stone  for  very  long  distances. 
McGee  mentions  a  withered  old  woman  of  the  desert 
land  of  the  Papagos,  who  weighed  no  more  than 
eighty  or  ninety  pounds,  but  who  arose  from  the 
ground  with  a  kiho  —  a  large  rude  basket  borne  on 
the  back  —  containing  a  stone  mortar  of  one  hun 
dred  and  ninety-six  pounds,  carried  it  more  than  a 
half-mile  over  a  sandy  road,  without  perceptibly 
exhausting  herself  or  attracting  particular  attention 
from  her  neighbors.1  Indeed,  as  burden-bearers,  the 

"American  Anthropologist,  vol.  viii,  p.  370. 


142  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

women  may  be  considered  worthy  rivals  of  the 
brawny  matrons  of  the  Himalaya  Mountains. 

Endurance,  that  characteristic  of  all  Indian  life, 
is,  in  certain  directions,  strikingly  observable  in  the 
Pueblo.  He  becomes  inured  to  privation.  In  cases 
of  expediency  he  is  content  with  but  little  food,  and 
in  cases  of  emergency  he  can  abstain  altogether  for 
a  very  long  time.  He  can  get  along  with  very  little 
water  to  drink,  and  can  pass  two  or  three  days  in  the 
hottest  weather  without  even  a  drop.  His  power  of 
endurance  is  perhaps  nowhere  better  exemplified  than 
during  the  long,  exhausting  dances  and  festivals. 

He  frequently  appears  to  have  a  strange,  rolling 
gait,  brought  on  by  the  peculiarities  of  the  country, 
particularly  the  sand,  over  which  he  is  compelled  to 
travel.  He  will  start  out  over  the  territory  on  a  sort 
of  trot,  and  will  keep  it  up  for  hours  at  a  time.  He 
will  go  from  fifteen  to  twenty-five  miles  away  from 
home  to  chase  and  kill  rabbits,  and  return  the  same 
day.  He  is  a  swift  pedestrian  always,  and  especially 
so  in  those  parts  where  limited  forage  has  deprived 
him  of  the  use  of  horses.  A  Moki,  it  is  said,  will  go 
on  foot  a  hundred  miles  in  a  day  and  night.1  "  To  my 
knowledge,"  says  Walter  Hough,  "  an  Oraibi  man 
made  a  continuous  run  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 

1  While  we  naturally  look  for  unusual  endurance  and  swift 
ness  of  foot  among  uncultivated  races,  yet  examples  of  these 
characteristics  are  not  wanting  among  civilized  nations. 
Just  before  the  battle  of  Marathon,  Phidippides  went  from 
Athens  to  Sparta  to  seek  aid,  running  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  in  thirty-six  hours. 


EDUCATION  143 

miles  as  a  bearer  of  a  note  and  answer."  l  According 
to  McGee,  some  couriers  will  run  between  a  hun 
dred  and  five  and  a  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles  in 
twenty- four  hours;  and  a  case  is  mentioned  of  an 
Indian  of  the  Southwest  who  carried  a  letter  nearly 
eight  hundred  miles  in  five  days.2  The  same  excellent 
authority  writes,  among  other  exploits,  of  a  Seri 
hunter,  who  alone  chased,  captured,  and  carried  home 
a  deer;  another,  who,  by  permission  of  the  owner, 
jumped  upon  a  horse  running  at  full  speed,  and,  while 
mounted,  caught  the  head  of  the  animal  and  twisted 
it  in  such  a  way  as  to  throw  him  and  break  his 
neck.3 

The  Pueblo  women  are  hardy,  rather  short, 
straight,  and  corpulent.  Carrying  a  great  deal  of 
water  in  jars  on  their  heads  for  very  long  distances 
is  possibly  the  best  explanation  of  their  remarkable 
erectness.  They  are  also  good  travelers,  and  make 
long  journeys  to  obtain  valuable  clays,  paints,  and 
other  material  for  service  in  their  household  indus 
tries.  Just  south  of  them,  in  Seri  land,  the  women,  on 
account  of  no  settled  homes  and  hence  unceasing 
peregrinations,  become  the  rivals  of  their  husbands 
as  pedestrians.  McGee  tells  of  a  matron  who,  carry 
ing  a  sick  child  about  a  year  old,  and  doubtless 
spurred  on  by  maternal  anxiety  for  obtaining  relief 


1  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  x,  p.  36. 
*  Id.,  vol.  viii,  p.  370. 

1  Seventeenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
p.    151. 


144  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

for  the  sufferer,  walked  more  than  forty  miles  be 
tween  dusk  and  dawn.1 

In  spite  of  their  many  hardships  and  unfortunate 
sanitary  conditions,  long  life  seems  to  be  one  of  the 
characteristics  of  the  Pueblos.  It  is  impossible,  how 
ever,  to  tell  how  old  they  really  are,  for  records  of 
their  ages  are  imperfectly  kept,  if  kept  at  all;  but  to 
the  casual  observer  the  proportion  of  old  men  and 
women  seems  large.  It  must,  nevertheless,  be  kept 
in  mind  that  blazing  sun  and  harsh,  hot,  and  dry 
winds  make  them  appear  older  than  they  are. 

They  are  subject  to  but  few  serious  diseases,  and 
these  are  generally  of  a  contagious  nature,  arising 
from  an  habitual  disregard  of  cleanliness.  When 
epidemics  do  come,  they  are  usually  very  destructive 
to  life,  on  account  of  the  prevailing  ignorance  of 
hygienic  laws  and  the  slavish  reliance  of  the  people 
upon  the  exorcism  of  shamens. 

It  is  said  that  the  reports  of  keenness  of  the  special 
senses  of  the  aborigines  have  been  greatly  exagger 
ated  by  writers.  Powell  thinks  that  the  sight,  hearing, 
taste,  and  smell  of  the  savages  are  blunt,  and  the  per 
ceptive  faculties  dull,  in  comparison  with  those  of 
civilized  man.2  It  is  doubtless  true  that  the  organs 
of  sense  lack  in  range  and  delicacy,  on  account  of 
lack  of  experience  in  the  higher  realms  of  culture. 
The  eye  has  not  been  trained  to  a  careful  discrimina- 

1  First  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology,  p.  20. 

2  Seventeenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
p.    151. 


EDUCATION  145 

tion  of  such  shades  and  colors  as  are  found  in  the  art 
galleries  of  civilized  nations,  nor  the  ear  to  operatic 
music,  nor  the  touch  to  the  cleverness  of  the  cultured 
artisan,  nor  the  smell  to  that  of  the  skillful  urban 
druggist,  nor  the  taste  to  that  of  the  survivor  of  a 
thousand  fashionable  banquets.  These  are  acquire 
ments  which  are  above  and  beyond  what  is  demanded 
in  the  commonplace  life  of  the  Indian.  In  his  own 
narrow  sphere,  however,  he  is  far  from  being  inept. 
He  trains  his  eye  to  catch  objects  out  on  the  plain, 
just  as  the  sailor  trains  his  eye  to  observe  ships  at 
sea.  He  is  attracted  by  sounds  which  would  entirely 
escape  the  ear  of  the  unpractised  white  man. 

The  morals  of  the  people  are,  on  the  whole,  com 
mendable.  Regarding  the  Mokis,  who  of  all  the 
Pueblos  have  been  least  influenced  by  the  whites. 
Mr.  Scott  says :  "  The  men  are  domestic  and  kind, 
the  women  are  loving  and  virtuous,  the  children 
are  obedient,  and  return  the  affection  bestowed  upon 
them  by  their  parents."  l  To  use  this  statement 
without  discrimination,  with  reference  to  all  Pueblos 
and  in  accordance  with  civilized  man's  ideas  of 
morality  and  ethics,  would  be  misleading.  The  same 
standards  can  hardly  be  applied  to  both  peoples. 
There  are,  however,  many  homely  virtues,  highly 
commended  in  the  best  circles  of  civilized  society, 
which  are  recognized  and  cultivated  among  these 
simple  people. 

The  children  are  taught  habits  of  industry.    They 
'Eleventh  Census  Report:  Indians,  p.  194. 


146  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

were  accustomed  to  do  their  share  of  work  in  the 
fields  in  ancient  times,  and  to-day  the  boy  takes  his 
turn  in  watching  the  corn  lands  or  the  herds.  There 
is  more  or  less  division  of  labor.  Tasks  are  assigned 
to  individuals  by  the  Governor,  and  announcements 
of  these  are  made,  day  by  day,  by  the  crier  from  the 
housetops.  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  people 
lead  the  strenuous  life  of  the  average  civilized 
American  citizen.  They  find  much  time  in  the  course 
of  the  year  for  lounging  and  gossiping,  but  they  are 
not  shiftless. 

The  women  are,  on  the  whole,  perhaps  more  indus 
trious  than  the  men.  They  gather  clay;  wash,  mix, 
and  mold  it  into  desired  forms ;  and  then  bake,  polish, 
and  decorate  the  vessels.  They  gather  material  from 
far  and  near,  and  weave  it  into  baskets.  They  assist 
the  men  in  preparing  paraphernalia  for  the  festivals. 
They  cook  the  food  and  take  care  of  their  children 
and  their  homes. 

The  industry  of  these  people  is  matched  by  their 
patience.  Their  long  journeys  for  wood  and  water, 
their  wearisome  tasks  in  producing  rude  household 
implements,  such  as  the  rubbing  of  stones  together  to 
make  metates;  their  tedious  labor  in  carrying  stones 
and  mortar  to  the  tops  of  cliffs  for  making  dwellings 
and  watch-towers,  or  in  making  with  their  blunt 
instruments,  excavations  for  homes  into  the  faces 
of  the  very  cliffs  themselves;  their  careful  attention 
to  the  details  in  crop-raising ;  and  the  great  amount  of 
watching,  and  waiting,  and  toiling  for  paltry  returns 


EDUCATION  147 

in  their  common  every-day  pursuits, —  all  these  com 
bine  to  make  their  plodding  lives  embodiments  of 
patience. 

Again,  they  have  been  evidently  always  a  peace- 
loving  people.  Their  mode  of  life  would  foster  the 
spirit  of  amity.  They  have  preferred  to  cultivate 
their  fields,  to  hunt  the  rabbit  and  the  deer,  and  to 
engage  in  their  harmless  pastimes  rather  than  to  go 
upon  the  war-path.  They  have  been  obliged,  however, 
to  train  themselves  for  combat  with  roving,  thieving, 
and  murderous  enemies.  That  they  proved  them 
selves  brave,  when  duty  called  them  to  the  defense  of 
their  lands,  homes,  and  kindred,  is  abundantly  testi 
fied  to  by  clouds  of  witnesses  from  the  days  of 
Coronado  down.  That  they  were  ingenious  and 
vigilant  as  well  as  brave,  the  choice  of  sites  for  their 
dwellings,  the  protective  principle  exemplified  in  the 
construction  of  their  stone  and  adobe  walls,  and  the 
skillful  erection  of  watch-towers,  bear  evidence. 

That  much  stress  should  be  put  upon  submission 
to  authority,  especially  parental  authority,  seems  also 
a  natural  result  of  the  conditions  of  the  Southwest. 
The  people  are  saturated  with  superstition.  From 
generation  to  generation,  dependence  upon  the  myste 
rious  forces  of  nature,  and  dread  of  surprises  from 
enemies  have  been  uppermost  in  the  minds  of  the 
people.  From  his  early  days  each  child  has  been 
taught  to  know  and  feel  the  influences  that  have 
engaged  and  controlled  the  thoughts  of  his  ancestors. 
He  has  become  accustomed  to  innumerable  precepts, 


148  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

and  stories  replete  with  moral  lessons.  It  is  con 
sidered  highly  essential  that  he  should  have  a  whole 
some  respect  for  seniority,  and  a  reverence  for  those 
supposed  to  be  wiser  than  himself.  To  him  their 
experiences  are  told,  and  from  these  experiences  he  is 
to  learn  right  rules  of  conduct.  Danger  lurks  every 
where,  and  in  order  to  avoid  it  the  child  should  be 
strictly  obedient  to  the  commands  and  cautions  of 
the  parents.  Like  all  small  organizations  in  the  midst 
of  insecurity  and  anxiety,  the  various  members  felt 
keenly  their  reliance  upon  one  another,  and  so 
kindred  ties  were  strong.  Occasionally,  as  a  caution 
against  laxity  in  behavior  on  the  part  of  the  children, 
questionable  methods  have  been  employed.  Older 
members  of  the  village  would  disguise  themselves 
in  ugly  masks  and  call  at  dwellings  in  which  there 
were  children,  and  frighten  them  by  threats  of 
punishment  or  death.  This  kind  of  discipline  ranks 
with  that  of  more  pretentious  people,  who  attempt  to 
reach  the  same  results  by  telling  the  children  of  the 
evil  powers  of  ghosts,  goblins,  and  witches. 

In  contrast  to  Pueblo  ideas  of  parental  authority, 
it  is  worthy  of  notice  that,  in  many  parts  of  aborig 
inal  America,  obedience  has  not  been  considered  an 
essentially  commendable  characteristic  of  social  life. 
r  Among  some  of  the  wilder  tribes,  a  rebellious, 
quarrelsome  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  sons  has 
been  encouraged  rather  than  opposed.  Chastisement 
for  obstinacy  has  been  considered  detrimental  to  the 
growth  of  courage,  and  hence  obstructive  in  the  mak- 


EDUCATION  149 

ing  of  a  warrior.  With  many  savages,  quarrels  are 
of  almost  daily  occurrence,  and  brawls  among  the 
youths  are  constantly  going  on.  Among  some  wild 
and  roving  tribes,  not  only  of  America  but  of  other 
lands,  either  of  the  parents,  but  especially  the  mother, 
may  be  killed  by  the  son  on  very  slight  provocation, 
and  the  murderer  is  not  seriously  molested.  Old 
people  who  cannot  endure  the  hardship  of  long 
tedious  journeys,  may  with  impunity  be  left  behind 
by  their  children  to  die  from  exposure.  This  lack  of 
affection  on  the  part  of  the  sons  and  daughters  brings 
to  mind  the  custom,  among  ancient  civilized  nations, 
of  leaving  unfortunate  offspring  to  die  in  lonely 
places. 

It  is  refreshing,  therefore,  to  turn  to  the  Pueblos, 
and  to  find,  approximately,  at  least,  the  conditions 
described  in  the  vigorous  language  of  Lummis,  who 
says  of  the  pueblo  of  Isleta :  "  Here  are  children 
never  spoiled,  never  disobedient,  almost  never  quar 
relsome;  parents  never  neglectful  and  never  harsh; 
and  none  who  fail  of  respect  to  seniority  —  even  as 
between  boy  and  older  boy/'  *  Some  have  thought 
that  there  are  evidences  that  the  cliff-dwellers  put 
to  death  the  very  aged.  If  this  should  be  proved,  it 
would  doubtless  be  found  that  such  things  were  done, 
not  on  account  of  looseness  of  kindred  bonds,  but 
on  account  of  distress,  particularly  famine,  which 
has  frequently  decimated  the  population,  and  caused 
the  taking-off,  voluntarily  or  otherwise,  of  the  less 

1  The  Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  p.  43. 


150  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

useful  persons  of  the  village  in  order  to  lessen  the 
demand  for  food.  This  is  a  desperate  remedy,  but 
not  unusual  among  primitive  people  in  lands  inade- 
.quate  to  supply  necessary  subsistence. 

Before  the  influence  of  white  men  was  felt,  there 
was  generally  a  wholesome  regard  for  truth-telling. 
The  children  were  taught  this  as  one  of  the  cardinal 
virtues.  There  was  no  hope  of  food  or  money  from 
tourist  or  antiquarian  as  a  reward  for  presenting 
something  pleasing  or  startling,  regardless  of  verac 
ity.  One  must  always  keep  in  mind,  however,  that, 
where  imagination  and  superstition  play  so  great  a 
part  in  the  life  of  a  people,  there  is  always  danger 
of  confounding  fact  with  fancy.  Stories,  which  are 
mere  creations  of  the  brain,  and  which  contain  ac 
counts  of  matters  that  never  could  have  happened, 
are  told  with  soberness  and  sincerity,  and  without 
any  malicious  intent. 

In  the  domain  of  purely  intellectual  achievements, 
one  could  hardly  expect  great  results  in  the  primitive 
Southwest.  Under  conditions  existing  in  such  lands, 
there  could  be  no  Platos  or  Bacons.  Complicated 
abstract  thought  cannot  get  far  along  without  an 
adequate  language  to  convey  it.  In  technical  educa 
tion  the  children  are  bright  in  those  subjects  requir 
ing  quickness  of  perception  and  skill  in  imitation, 
but  neither  old  nor  young  have  advanced  very  far 
along  the  line  of  metaphysics.  Logic  is  not  one  of 
their  chief  qualifications.  A  large  part  of  their  phi 
losophy  is  childish,  though  oftentimes  exceedingly 


EDUCATION 


interesting.  Their  mythology  is  great  in  quantity  and 
more  or  less  ingenious,  but  not  profound.  The  con 
crete  and  local,  rather  than  the  abstract  and  remote, 
interest  them.  Their  memories  have  been  cultivated 
by  means  of  many  songs  and  legends,  handed  down 
from  age  to  age.  [The  system  of  intellectual  develop 
ment  is  Oriental  rather  than  modern  American.  Their 
spoken  language  has  become  well  differentiated.  Parts 
of  speech  are  distinguishable.  Their  picture-writing 
is  intended  to  convey  some  practical  facts,  but  is  of 
slight  importance  when  compared  with  the  systems 
of  hieroglyphics  which  have  been  developed  in  the 
lands  farther  southward.  The  chirography,  placed 
on  skins  and  rocks,  consists  of  almost  childish  pic 
tures  and  a  few  symbols.  Like  all  primitive  Ameri 
cans,  they  have  long  been  proficient  in  sign-language. 
Some  of  their  inventions  are  curious,  almost  ingen 
ious,  but  not  complex.  A  great  diversity  of  quality 
appears  in  their  arts.  When  white  men  first  visited 
them,  they  had  not  yet  devised  the  potter's  wheel  nor 
discovered  a  process  of  glazing  —  at  least,  glazing 
absolutely  impervious  —  for  their  ware.  In  their 
handicraft  they  did  not  make  use  of  such  mechanical 
aids  as  the  square  and  compass,  or  the  plumb-line. 
They  had  no  augers,  planes,  or  pulleys,  such  as  are 
familiar  to  us;  though  the  work  we  do  with  these 
was  accomplished,  after  a  fashion,  by  means  of  ruder 
implements.  There  are  many  other  phases  of  intellect 
ual  development  which  appear  more  closely  connected 
with  other  topics,  and  which  will  be  noticed  later. 


152  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Taken  as  a  whole,  the  Pueblo  has  achieved  much 
in  comparison  with  many  other  groups  of  his  own 
race;  but,  isolated  and  fettered  as  he  has  been,  the 
possibilities  of  reaching  that  world-civilization,  which 
has  grown  up  along  the  great  water-courses,  and  on 
moist,  fertile  lands,  have  never  been  his. 


CHAPTER   VII 

INDUSTRIES,   ARTS,   AND   SCIENCES 

THE  topics  to  be  considered  in  this  chapter 
might  have  been  taken  up  with  equal  pro 
priety  in  the  one  immediately  preceding, 
for  education  is  a  term  almost  indefinable,  and  virtu 
ally  unlimited  in  scope.  The  most  important  teaching 
may  be  done  elsewhere  than  under  roofs,  even  in 
civilized  society,  and  this  is  especially  true  in  aborig 
inal  communities.  In  native  American  life  there  are 
arts,  a  few  of  which  are  real  accomplishments,  oth 
ers  simply  utilitarian,  and  still  others  necessary  for 
very  existence. 

There  come  times  in  primitive  man's  slow  move 
ment  toward  the  sunlight  of  civilization,  when  he 
looks  beyond  the  narrow  circle  of  the  present  and  a 
commendable  ambition  begins  to  awaken  within  him. 
He  wishes  to  make  known  his  thoughts  otherwise 
than  by  speech  and  gesture.  He  desires  to  throw  his 
ideas  into  more  permanent  form.  He  is  anxious  that 
his  posterity  shall  know  something  about  his  history, 
what  deeds  of  valor  he  has  performed,  how  highly 
he  has  been  esteemed  by  his  fellow  men.  He  medi 
tates,  and  says  with  Hiawatha :  — 

"  Great  men  die  and  are  forgotten, 
Wise  men  speak;  their  words  of  wisdom 

153 


154  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Perish  in  the  ears  that  hear  them, 
Do  not  reach  the  generations 
That,  as  yet  unborn,  are  waiting 
In  the  great,  mysterious  darkness 
Of  the  speechless  days  that  shall  be  ! 

"  On  the  grave-posts  of  our  fathers 
£re  no  signs,  no  figures  painted; 
Who  are  in  those  graves  we  know  not, 
Only  know  they  are  our  fathers. 
Of  what  kith  they  are  and  kindred, 
From  what  old,  ancestral  Totem, 
Be  it  Eagle,  Bear,  or  Beaver, 
They  descended,  this  we  know  not, 
Only  know  they  are  our  fathers."  * 

Not  like  the  ancient  people  of  the  valley  of  the 
Euphrates  has  the  Indian,  especially  the  Indian  living 
north  of  Mexico,  devised  a  system  of  cuneiform 
writing,  and,  stamping  the  characters  on  plastic  clay 
slabs,  laid  them  away  to  be  read  when  scores  of 
generations  have  passed  away.  The  sun-baked  earth 
of  Pueblo  land  might  suggest  some  such  devices  as 
the  tablets  of  the  Chaldeans,  but  the  native  inhabitant 
of  the  Southwest  had  not  progressed  quite  far  enough 
to  take  advantage  of  such  expedients.  A  step  of  that 
kind  was  just  beyond  his  comprehension  and  genius. 
He  had  advanced  far  enough,  however,  to  have 
yearnings  for  leaving  to  posterity  records  relating  to 
his  day  and  generation;  and  in  several  ways  his  sur 
roundings  suggested  how  it  might  be  done.  About 
him  are  rocks  for  tablets,  splinters  of  wood  or 
bunches  of  wild  grass  for  pencil  or  brush,  and  miner 
als  or  plant- juices  for  coloring.  Here  is  the  beginning 

aSong  of  Hiawatha,  xiv. 

. 


INDUSTRIES  155 

of  graphic  art,  and  is  of  much  the  same  nature  as 
that  in  vogue  long  before  the  Pyramids.  He  con 
structs  his  rude  drawings  of  man,  beast,  or  bird,  to 
be  interpreted  by  the  passer-by.  Sometimes,  to  in 
sure  permanency  for  his  figures  and  symbols,  he 
makes  incisions  on  the  rocks  with  pieces  of  bone  or 
flint. 

Almost  everywhere  over  the  United  States  this 
pictography  may  be  found.  On  the  faces  of  isolated 
boulders,  on  walls  by  the  sides  of  streams,  on  jutting 
crags  near  pueblos,  and  on  the  ceilings  of  caves,  the 
picture-writing  appears.  There  are  chronicles  of 
famines,  disasters,  pestilences,  and  deaths.  Not  only 
records  of  things  of  great  import  are  thus  preserved, 
but  matters  of  less  interest  are  noticed.  Recent 
discoveries  show  that  many  of  the  pictographs  are 
for  imparting  information  of  general  interest,  like 
sign-boards  at  the  cross-roads  in  civilized  communi 
ties.  Sometimes  a  spring,  a  ford,  or  a  trail  is  indi 
cated  by  means  of  them.1  Many  are  for  the  purpose 
of  pointing  out  graves,  and  recording  something 
about  the  departed.  Occasionally,  rather  abstruse 
ideas  are  represented.  A  few  lines  from  Hiawatha 
illustrate  this :  — 

"  For  the  earth  he  drew  a  straight  line, 
For  the  sky  a  bow  above  it; 
White  the  space  between  for  daytime, 
Filled  with  little  stars  for  night-time; 
On  the  left  a  point  for  sunrise, 

1Mallery:  Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Eth 
nology,  p.  17,  et  seq. 


156  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

On  the  right  a  point  for  sunset, 
On  the  top  a  point  for  noontide, 
And  for  rain  and  cloudy  weather 
Waving  lines  descending  from  it."  * 

The  rocks  of  the  southwestern  country  contain 
many  records  of  fact  and  fancy.  Many  of  these 
writings,  in  order  that  they  may  be  seen  from  a  dis 
tance,  are  painted  or  chiseled  far  up  on  the  faces  of 
the  bluffs  comprising  the  walls  of  the  numerous 
canons  of  the  country,  and  others  on  isolated  bould 
ers  sometimes  very  remote  from  signs  of  habitations. 

Many  of  them  are  archaic,  and  are  evidently  the 
work  of  the  cliff-dwellers. 

"  Here  still  a  lofty  rock  remains, 

On  which  the  curious  eye  may  trace 
(Now  wasted  half  by  wearing  rains) 
The  fancies  of  a  ruder  race."  2 

The  Pueblos  are  fortunate  in  having  so  great 
variety  of  excellent  minerals  for  paints,  soft  conven 
ient  sandstone  for  tablets,  and  unlimited  quantities 
of  flinty  rocks  or  agatized  wood  for  chisels. 

We  pass  to  the  consideration  of  another  important 
art  of  primitive  life  with  a  remark  from  Starr: 
"  What  a  man  eats  depends  very  largely  on  where  he 
lives;  what  he  eats  determines  very  largely  his  char 
acter;  and  the  devices  which  are  necessary  to 
secure  his  food  dictate  and  influence  his  arts  and 
industries."  3 

1  Song  of  Hiawatha,  xiv. 

2Freneau:  The  Indian  Burying-Ground. 

8  First  Steps  in  Human  Progress,  p.  37. 


INDUSTRIES  157 

The  making  of  pottery  is  a  very  important  achieve 
ment  in  human  affairs.  Morgan  considers  it  the  step 
ping-stone  from  savagery  to  barbarism.1  Among  the 
Pueblos  we  naturally  expect  the  ceramic  art  to  be 
noteworthy,  and  we  are  not  disappointed.  Potsherds 
in  profusion  are  mingled  with  the  old  ruins.  Several 
of  the  villages  of  to-day  are  especially  distinguished 
for  the  production  of  peculiar  or  excellent  varieties 
of  ware.  They  are  the  Rookwood,  the  Grube,  the 
Van  Briggle  manufactories  of  the  Southwest.  The 
quality  of  the  production  depends  primarily  upon 
the  locality,  for  there  is  a  great  difference  in  the 
nature  of  the  clay. 

The  inventions  and  improvements  of  the  vessels 
themselves  have  grown  out  of  the  necessities  of  the 
times  and  the  changes  of  conditions.  Man  cannot 
get  along  far  in  the  direction  of  civilization  before 
he  has  devised  some  sort  of  contrivance,  larger  than 
the  human  hand,  to  serve  for  holding  and  conveying 
foods,  liquids,  and  other  ordinary  substances,  of 
which  he  is  ever  in  need.  The  necessity  and  the  ex 
pedient  to  meet  it  may  come  about  in  a  thousand 
ways.  Imagine,  for  instance,  an  Indian  mother  bear 
ing  her  child  in  her  arms  for  many  miles  through 
the  forest.  Faint,  tired,  and  stopping  to  rest,  she 
breaks  off  a  few  tough  twigs  from  a  tree,  twines 
them  into  a  sort  of  improvised  pouch,  places  the 
papoose  within,  slings  the  load  upon  her  shoulders, 
and  moves  on  with  comparative  comfort.  The  relief 

1  Ancient  Society,  chap.  i. 


158  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

thus  experienced  in  carrying  her  burden  suggests  a 
more  permanent  device,  and  so  improvements  in  its 
construction  go  on.  Modifications  are  thought  of  to 
meet  new  emergencies  and  to  acquire  greater  con 
veniences,  until  in  the  course  of  time  there  comes 
to  be  an  almost  infinite  variety  of  shapes  and  sizes. 
Gushing  1  traces  the  growth  of  pottery  among  the 
Pueblos  in  somewhat  the  following  manner.  When 
these  people  first  came  into  the  land,  the  semi-desert 
nature  of  the  country  made  the  question  of  carrying 
and  preserving  water  of  vital  importance.  The  indi 
cations,  traced  through  language,  are  that  they  first 
made  use  of  tubes  of  wood  or  cane,  which  were  em 
ployed  during  their  nomadic  stage.  These  were  super 
seded  by  gourds,  which  were  at  hand  and  had  many 
points  of  superiority.  The  gourds,  however,  were 
fragile,  and,  for  the  purpose  of  strengthening  and 
preserving  them,  they  were  encased  in  wicker-work. 
These,  in  turn,  would  suggest  water-tight  baskets, 
which,  on  account  of  strength  and  convenience, 
would  displace  all  former  utensils.  Clay  came  to  be 
pressed  upon  the  wattling  from  the  inside  and  formed 
a  heavy  coating.  For  roasting  seeds  and  kindred 
substances,  live  coals  were  placed  within  the  vessel 
along  with  the  material  to  be  parched,  and  a  whirling 
motion  kept  up  for  the  purpose  of  heating  the  kernels 
evenly.  Not  only  is  the  food  thus  roasted,  but  the 
clay  lining  by  constant  use  is  incidentally  heated, 

1  Fourth    Annual    Report    of    the    Bureau    of    Ethnology, 
p.  482,  et  seq. 


O   O   O 


O  O 


EVOLUTION  OF  PUEBLO  FORMS  OF  POTTERY  FROM  INDIGE 
NOUS  GOURDS 
(After  Holmes)  Page   159 


INDUSTRIES  159 

until  it  becomes  hard  and  stable.  The  wooden  net 
work  after  a  time  becomes  torn  off  or  burned  away, 
but  the  hard  clay  lining  still  preserves  its  shape.  Here, 
then,  is  primitive  pottery  as  a  result  of  evolution.  It 
is  not  far  from  this  point  of  development  to  the 
shaping  and  roasting  of  clay  vessels  without  the 
assistance  of  the  wooden  framework. 

Let  us  follow  the  evolution  of  forms.  The  old 
shape  is  still  obtained  by  drawing  out  a  long  rope  of 
clay,  varying  in  thickness  to  suit  the  character  of 
the  vessel  to  be  made,  and,  beginning  at  one  end 
of  the  rope,  coiling  it  upon  itself  at  the  bottom  of  the 
basket  and  following  up  the  sides  until  the  top  is 
reached,  pressing  the  coils  gently  upon  one  another 
as  the  winding  continues.  The  completed  article  is 
left  in  the  basket  until  it  dries  and  shrinks,  when 
it  is  carefully  removed  and  fired.  It  is  found  by 
experiment  that  by  careful  manipulation  vessels  can 
be  made  from  these  ropes  of  clay  without  using 
wicker-work  for  support;  but  the  plaiting  is  still 
imitated  by  making  creases  upon  the  coils  with  the 
thumb-nail,  or  a  piece  of  bone. 

The  next  step  is  to  mold  a  piece  of  plastic  earth 
into  a  desired  form  without  coiling.  Freed  from  de 
pendence  upon  basket  models,  there  arises  imme 
diately  a  great  variety  of  shapes,  chiefly  imitations 
taken  from  local  natural  objects.  Shells,  gourds,  ani 
mals,  or  parts  of  animals,  especially  heads  and  feet; 
plants,  or  parts  of  plants,  especially  twigs,  leaves, 
and  flowers, —  all  these  furnish  suggestions  for  either 


160  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

the  complete  vessel  or  for  parts  of  it,  such  as  spouts 
and  handles;  for  all  manner  of  ornaments  painted 
upon  it;  for  various  designs  pressed  into  it;  or  for 
raised  or  sunken  figures  molded  upon  it. 

"  In  searching  for  the  first  suggestions  of  han 
dles,"  says  Holmes,  "  we  must  certainly  go  back  to 
the  very  beginnings  of  art,  when  men  and  women  em 
ployed  leaves  or  vines  to  carry  their  children  or  their 
food,  or  to  suspend  them  for  safety  from  the  trees 
of  the  forest/'  1  From  this  simple  utilitarian  form, 
spring  many  others,  suggested  by  vegetable,  animal, 
or  even  mineral  shapes,  such  as  the  crooked  or  straight 
necks  of  gourds;  or  the  roots  and  stems  of  maize, 
cactus,  and  yucca;  or  the  heads,  necks,  and  feet  of 
birds  and  lizards.  Loops  of  strings,  ordinary  hoops 
and  rings,  have  been  also  potent  factors  in  bringing 
about  the  great  variety  of  form  which  one  finds  in 
an  ordinary  collection  of  Pueblo  ware. 

Passing  from  the  mere  shape  of  the  vessel  to  its 
decoration,  one  finds  many  designs,  striking  and  in 
teresting,  even  if  all  thought  of  beauty  be  thrown 
aside  and  the  pattern  be  considered  solely  with  refer 
ence  to  its  origin  and  meaning.  The  scroll  is  supposed 
to  have  been  imitated  from  shells  finding  their  way 
into  the  country  through  barter  with  tribes  living 
along  the  Pacific.  The  same  design,  however,  might 
easily  be  suggested  by  whirlwinds  and  water-pools. 
The  fauna  of  a  district  also  supplies  many  models. 

1  Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
p.  271. 


INDUSTRIES  161 

Rude,  sometimes  highly  conventionalized,  and  even 
artistic  drawings  of  man,  beast,  or  bird  are  found 
on  both  ancient  and  modern  ware.  On  sacred  vessels 
are  decorations  and  symbols  to  represent  sky,  clouds, 
and  rain,  being  especially  significant  on  account  of 
the  aridity  of  the  Pueblo  country.  Gushing,  concern 
ing  the  emblems  to  be  found  on  the  prayer-meal 
bowls  of  the  Zuriis,  says :  "  As  the  tadpole  frequents 
the  pools  of  springtime,  he  has  been  adopted  as  the 
symbol  of  spring  rains;  the  dragon-fly  hovers  over 
pools  in  summer,  hence  typifies  the  rains  of  summer; 
and  the  frog,  maturing  in  them  later,  symbolizes 
the  rains  of  the  later  seasons;  for  all  these  pools 
are  due  to  rainfall."  * 

The  prevailing  color  of  the  ware  also  depends 
more  or  less  upon  locality.  The  predominating  hue 
of  the  clay  throughout  the  Southwest  is  yellow  or 
yellowish  brown,  but  it  shades  off  by  gradations  into 
pure  black  or  white.  An  inky  blackness  is  purposely 
given  to  some  of  the  vessels  by  smoke,  which  enters 
the  pores  when  the  articles  are  heated  in  the  process 
of  manufacturing.  Sometimes  a  special  kind  of  fuel 
is  chosen  for  the  purpose  of  imparting  a  desired 
shade.  It  has  already  been  noticed  that  the  country 
abounds  in  various  minerals  which  are  used  for 
paints,  and  which,  by  mixing,  give  considerable 
variety  of  color. 

In  the  manufacture  of  pottery  the  firing  is  a  very 

*  Fourth    Annual  Report    of    the    Bureau    of    Ethnology, 
p.  518. 


162  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

important  operation,  and  requires  skill.  The  quality 
of  the  ware  depends  upon  the  process  of  heating, 
whether  rapid  or  slow;  upon  the  place  of  heating, 
whether  in  ashes,  brush-heaps,  or  mud  or  stone- 
kilns;  upon  the  kind  of  fuel,  whether  coal,  animal 
refuse,  resinous  wood,  or  sage-brush. 

Generally  speaking,  the  Pueblos  do  not  attach  legs 
to  their  pieces  of  pottery,  nor  did  the  cliff-dwellers. 
The  vessels  stand  upright  enough,  perhaps,  without 
these,  though  not  very  firm.  The  floors  of  the  homes, 
however,  are  not  always  level,  and  probably  the  old- 
time  plan  of  construction  is  well  enough  suited  to 
Pueblo  life. 

Having  followed  the  development  of  pottery 
through  its  various  stages,  let  us  return  to  the 
basket-making,  which,  although  it  seems  to  have 
suggested  pottery,  has,  however,  developed  on  lines 
peculiarly  its  own. 

For  the  primitive  artist,  basketry  and  pottery  both 
have  their  advantages  and  limitations.  The  former 
is  more  enduring,  requires,  in  producing  it,  much 
harder  and  more  prolonged  labor,  and  is  more  diffi 
cult  to  convert  into  artistic  shapes,  not  offering  so 
large  and  varied  a  field  for  designs.  The  latter  is 
fragile,  is  much  more  quickly  and  easily  produced, 
and,  on  account  of  its  smooth  surface,  presents  for 
ornamentation,  boundless  opportunities  for  the  inven 
tion  of  various  patterns.  Both  are  equally  influenced 
by  physiographic  conditions.  "  There  is  no  work  of 
woman's  fingers,"  says  Mason,  "  that  furnishes  a 


INDUSTRIES  163 

better  opportunity  for  the  study  of  techno-geography, 
or  the  relationship  existing  between  an  industry  and 
the  region  where  it  may  have  developed,  than  the 
textile  art."  1 

Wherever,  throughout  aboriginal  America,  baskets 
have  been  made  —  and  they  have  been  made  almost 
everywhere  —  they  bear  with  them  the  stamp  of  the 
locality  in  which  they  have  been  produced.  The 
various  shapes,  the  numerous  color  designs,  the  kinds 
of  weave,  the  differences  in  material, —  all,  or  some, 
of  these  elements  reveal  the  natural  features  and  re 
sources  of  the  quarter  of  the  earth  in  which  they 
first  appear.2  Among  basket-making  materials  of 
Alaska,  birch  bark  and  spruce  roots  are  conspicuous ; 
Dn  the  Aleutian  Archipelago,  willow  twigs  and  bark ; 
in  Oregon  and  northern  California,  ferns,  pine  roots, 
>umac,  and  hazel  twigs;  in  southern  California,  tule 
root,  squaw-weed,  unicorn  plant,  and  yucca;  among 
:he  Algonkins  and  Iroquois,  birches  and  willows;  in 
:he  land  of  the  Athapaskan,  hazel  twigs,  pine  roots, 
md  various  grasses;  in  the  sub-tropical  country  of 
:he  Maskoki,  cane  and  native  hemp;  among  the  Sacs 
md  Foxes,  willow  twigs,  white-ash  bark,  and  fila- 
nents  of  slippery-elm;  in  Central  America,  reeds, 
;ilk-grass,  and  bark  of  the  Mahoe-tree. 

In  any  of  these  sections  there  has  always  been  a 
^reat  variety  of  very  beautiful  baskets.  This  is  true 
especially  along  the  western  coast,  where  abundance 

1  Woman's  Share  in  Primitive  Culture,  p.  41. 

2  James:  Indian  Basketry,  chap.  vi. 


164  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

of  excellent  material  grows.  From  southern  Cali 
fornia  to  Alaska,  the  work  is  of  a  very  high  order. 
In  other  sections  where  the  wood  fibre  is  of  inferior 
quality,  or  the  energies  of  the  people  are  habitually 
directed  toward  some  other  industry,  the  products 
are  of  poorer  grade. 

Among  those  who  are  designated  strictly  as  Pueblo 
Indians,  that  is,  those  who  live  in  adobe  communal 
houses,  basketry,  while  of  some  importance  in  almost 
all  of  the  villages,  and  of  much  consequence  in  a 
few,  could,  however,  as  a  whole,  hardly  be  called  an 
extensive  industry.  Sedentary  people  can  more  easily 
make  pottery,  and  can  use  it  successfully  under  condi 
tions,  which,  on  account  of  its  fragility,  would  render 
it  worthless  in  the  rougher  experiences  of  roving 
bands.  It  is  not,  however,  a  lost  art  in  the  Southwest, 
nor  even  a  neglected  one,  when  we  take  the  whole 
country  into  consideration,  for  it  has  been  practised 
with  signal  success  by  many  of  the  Pueblos,  and  more 
especially  by  the  several  nomadic  or  semi-nomadic 
tribes  or  stocks,  such  as  the  Apaches,  Pimas,  Walla- 
pais,  Havasupais,  and  others.  Some  of  these  people 
produce  baskets  noted  for  strength  and  durability, 
others  for  remarkably  symmetrical  forms  and  artistic 
designs. 

The  variety  of  plant-life  in  the  land  of  the  Pueblos 
is  limited  on  account  of  aridity;  but  much  of  the 
product  is  of  excellent  quality,  and  in  the  hands  of 
the  skillful  women  of  that  country,  real  artists,  as 
many  of  them  become,  it  is  fashioned  into  beautiful 


INDUSTRIES  165 

and  valuable  pieces.  Various  grasses,  yucca  leaves, 
twigs  of  cactus,  cedar,  and  willow,  are  the  staple 
products.  The  women  go  scores  of  miles,  often  on 
journeys  lasting  for  several  days,  to  gather  choice 
material  for  their  work.  They  climb  the  steep  sides 
of  the  mountains,  or  travel  out  over  the  plains  in 
the  hot  sun  to  reach  localities  abounding  in  plants 
having  suitable  boughs  and  roots  for  weaving,  and 
containing  mineral  or  vegetable  dyes  for  ornamenta 
tion.  Having  secured  these,  they  slowly  bear  home 
their  clumsy  but  treasured  burdens. 

After  the  material  has  been  gathered,  there  is  still 
much  to  be  done  before  the  real  basket-making  be 
gins.  Sometimes  the  wood  fibre  is  kept  in  water  for 
months  to  make  it  soft  and  pliable.  Again,  it  is  torn 
into  shreds  or  split  into  flat  strips,  and  all  the  bark 
and  pith  removed.  Again,  it  is  washed,  rubbed, 
scraped,  twisted,  crushed,  and  hackled,  until  it 
becomes  as  flexible  as  linen.  It  is  buried  in  mud  to 
make  it  black,  or  soaked  in  water  to  make  it  white, 
or  steeped  in  juices  or  dyes  to  give  it  other  desired 
colors.  All  this  was  done  and  well  done  before  the 
industry  was  affected  by  the  deteriorating  influence 
of  commercial  dyes. 

The  kinds  of  weave  depend  upon  the  nature  of 
the  material  at  hand,  the  size  of  the  baskets  them 
selves,  and  the  uses  to  which  they  are  to  be  put. 
Some  of  the  articles  are  very  strong  and  rigid,  others 
soft  and  flexible.  Many  are  of  coarse  quality  and 
therefore  useful  only  for  holding  bulky  articles,  while 


i66  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

others  are  so  finely  woven  that  liquids  can  be  carried 
in  them. 

The  very  fact  that  basket-making  is  a  textile  art 
—  that  in  producing  the  articles  the  material  must 
be  braided,  twisted,  and  woven  —  makes  geometric 
designs  especially  appropriate  for  this  kind  of  work. 
Squares,  rectangles,  and  rhombs  are  conspicuous  on 
baskets  wherever  they  are  manufactured.  Generally 
speaking,  indented  and  elbow-shaped  figures  are  more 
easily  made  than  curves  and  circles;  still,  by  careful 
manipulation,  the  effect  of  circularity  may  be  ob 
tained  with  comparative  ease,  especially  in  larger 
designs,  even  if  the  units  composing  them  are 
squares  or  rectangles.  Nature  provides  innumerable 
models  to  be  copied  and  conventionalized.  The  light 
ning,  the  crawling  snake,  or  the  winding  river,  sug 
gests  zig-zag  or  sinuous  lines.  The  tops  of  trees, 
mountain  peaks,  canons,  and  gorges,  give  hints  for 
representations  of  depressions  and  eminences ;  and 
these  have  come  to  be  used  very  effectually,  espe 
cially  as  designs  for  borders.  The  long,  slender, 
waving  blades  of  corn,  the  branches  and  leaves  of 
pines  and  cedars,  the  sprigs  of  cactus  and  grease- 
wood,  the  various  shapes  of  clouds,  have  suggested 
innumerable  forms  for  fanciful  creations.  Some  of 
these  natural  objects  in  the  course  of  time  become 
conventionalized  almost  beyond  recognition.  As  in 
pottery  designs,  the  whirlpools  in  swollen  streams, 
or  the  constantly  recurring  whirlwinds  of  dust  have 
been  imitated  in  scroll-work  with  good  effect. 


INDUSTRIES  167 

Through  long  practice  of  the  textile  art,  some  very 
complicated  and  ingenious  designs  have  arisen. 

To  procure  coloring  material  for  baskets  —  as  for 
clay-ware  —  the  Indian  woman  searches  far  and 
wide;  gathers  leaves,  twigs,  roots,  barks,  and  ber 
ries;  extracts  saps  and  juices,  selecting  and  mixing 
them  in  order  to  deepen  and  soften  the  various  tints, 
until  she  has  obtained  the  desired  variety.  She  digs 
into  the  earth  to  obtain  pigments.  She  keeps  on  hand 
a  supply  of  native  mordants  to  set  the  dyes  in  which 
the  woody  fibre  is  soaked. 

The  colors  on  baskets  are  also  important  from  the 
standpoint  of  symbolism.  The  black,  blue,  green, 
yellow,  red,  and  white  are  employed  to  tell  their 
stories  in  emblematic  language. 

It  may  be  somewhat  singular,  but  there  are  certain 
primary  colors  which  seem  to  appeal  to  mankind  in 
general  as  fitting  symbols  for  use  in  connection  with 
certain  rites  and  ceremonies.  They  have  been  em 
ployed  from  time  immemorial,  by  savage  and  civil 
ized  alike,  to  express  certain  ideas  and  fancies. 
Apparently  by  a  sort  of  intuition,  they  suggest  at 
a  glance  some  great  truth.  White  is  a  sign  of  inno 
cence  and  purity,  black,  of  evil  and  sorrow.  Red  tells 
of  war  and  bloodshed.  Blue  indicates  the  color  of  the 
sky,  and  hence  the  ethereal  and  spiritual.  Green 
means  strength  and  freshness. 

In  the  Pueblo  country,  colors  are  extensively  used, 
symbolically  as  well  as  ornamentally,  on  all  kinds 
of  utensils,  in  fact  on  all  kinds  of  articles,  not  only 


168  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

pottery  and  baskets,  but  objects  made  from  gourds, 
skins,  wood,  bone,  and  stone.  Yellow,  for  instance,  is 
a  favorite  and  very  appropriate  color  for  baskets 
used  in  the  harvest  dances. 

In  olden  times  the  Pueblos  were  evidently  the  only 
makers  of  such  textures  as  blankets,  kilts,  or  belts, 
in  their  part  of  the  country.  Out  of  the  cotton  culti 
vated  near  their  villages,  they  produced  cloth,  some 
of  it  coarse  and  unadorned,  some  of  it  bearing 
modest  and  appropriate  designs.  Frequently,  other 
materials,  such  as  rabbit's  hair,  yucca  fibre,  and 
feathers,  were  ingeniously  mixed  with  the  cotton, 
and  woven  with  good  effect  into  the  fabrics.  The 
mountains  and  plains  furnished  native  dyes  for 
blanket-coloring  as  well  as  for  pottery  and  baskets. 
Twigs,  roots,  gums,  ochre,  and  other  materials  were 
utilized  to  obtain  desired  stains  and  mordants. 

Of  all  the  ancient  weavers  of  the  Southwest,  the 
Mokis  were  the  most  proficient.  Among  the  Pueblos 
they  are  so  to-day,  with  the  Zufiis  as  rather  close 
rivals.  Since  the  coming  of  the  white  man,  however, 
the  whole  weaving  industry  has  been  greatly  modi 
fied.  The  new-comer  imported  flocks  of  sheep,  hence 
woolen  goods  began  to  prevail.  He  imported  cheap 
commercial  dyes,  and  in  many  cases  deterioration 
in  color-notions  followed,  as  it  has  followed  in  the 
decoration  of  baskets  and  clay-ware.  The  Navaho 
becoming  more  or  less  sedentary,  becoming  particu 
larly  a  herder  of  sheep  and  a  producer  of  wool,  has 
been  attracted  to  the  industry  of  weaving,  has  learned 


INDUSTRIES  169 

from  the  Mokis  the  art  of  making  blankets,  and  has 
become  so  proficient  and  extensive  a  manufacturer 
that  his  goods  are  known  all  over  the  country,  and 
even  in  foreign  lands. 

The  textile  industry  of  these  people  has  been  care 
fully  studied,  and  reported  upon,  by  such  observers 
as  Lummis,1  Hollister,2  and  Matthews,3  the  last  of 
whom  has  given  us  a  very  minute  account  of  the 
whole  process,  and  to  whom  much  of  the  information 
here  presented  is  due. 

In  these  days  the  Navahos  generally  use  shears, 
manufactured  by  white  men,  to  clip  the  fleece  from 
the  sheep.  Formerly  they  pulled  the  wool  off  the 
animal,  or  cut  and  tore  it  away  with  their  dull,  rude 
implements.  Contrary  to  the  custom  of  the  new 
comers,  they  do  not  wash  the  wool  while  it  is  on 
the  sheep's  back,  but  take  great  pains  to  cleanse  it 
after  it  is  removed.  It  is  carefully  carded  with  wire- 
toothed  combs  obtained  from  the  whites,  and  is  then 
made  into  loose  rolls  preparatory  to  spinning. 

The  spindle  is  of  very  simple  construction,  con 
sisting  of  a  straight  piece  of  wood  some  two  or 
three  feet  in  length  and  of  about  the  diameter  of 
one's  ringer,  with  one  end  tapering  gradually  down 
to  a  point,  the  other  remaining  more  blunt.  It  is 
passed  through  the  centre  of  a  wooden  disk,  about 


1  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country. 
"The  Navajo  and  His  Blanket. 

'Third    Annual    Report    of    the    Bureau    of    Ethnology, 
PP.  375-391. 


1 70  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

four  inches  in  diameter  and  an  inch  in  width,  to 
which  it  is  made  fast  some  six  inches  from  the  less 
pointed  end.  When  in  operation,  the  implement  gen 
erally  lies  loosely  at  one  side  of  the  weaver,  and  the 
whole  process  of  twirling  it  and  of  converting  the 
wool  into  a  thread  is  managed  with  the  ringers. 
Through  long  practice,  remarkable  skill  is  acquired 
in  making  ready  this  raw  material  for  the  loom.  In 
preparing  the  strong  filament  for  the  warp,  the 
material  is  placed  upon  the  spindle  and  taken  off 
and  respun  four  or  five  times.  The  woof  is  spun 
less  often;  and  the  texture  of  the  blanket,  of  course, 
depends  upon  the  number  of  repetitions  in  spinning. 

The  warp  is  prepared  upon  a  temporary  frame, 
consisting  of  two  short  slender  poles  laid  parallel 
to  each  other  on  the  ground,  or  perhaps  upon  four 
small  flat  stones,  and  separated  by  as  much  space  as 
can  conveniently  be  covered  by  the  blanket  when 
finished.  To  the  ends  of  these  poles,  are  bound,  at 
the  corners,  two  slender  rods,  running  perpendicu 
larly  from  one  to  the  other  and  holding  them  in 
place. 

The  warp-thread,  after  one  end  of  it  has  been 
fastened  somewhere  to  the  frame,  is  carried  continu 
ously  back  and  forth,  over  and  under  the  poles,  cross 
ing  and  recrossing,  until  it  has  covered  enough  of 
space  along  these  poles  to  form  a  warp  of  desired 
width.  The  thread  is  then  broken  and  made  fast 
to  the  frame  as  at  the  beginning. 

The  next  step  for  the  one  preparing  the  warp  is 


INDUSTRIES  171 

to  tie  into  a  knot  three  strong  cords  so  as  to  form 
strands.  Fastening  to  the  pole  these  cords  somewhere 
near  the  knot,  she  carries  one  of  the  strands  around 
the  thread  comprising  the  outer  edge  of  the  warp; 
intertwines  it  with  the  other  two  strands,  one  of 
which  she  passes  about  the  second  warp-thread ;  inter 
twines  this  again  with  the  other  two;  then  passes 
the  third  strand  about  the  third  warp-thread,  inter 
twines  as  before,  and,  again  taking  up  strand  number 
one,  continues  the  process  of  winding  and  intertwin 
ing  until  she  has  passed  entirely  across  the  face  of 
the  warp.  By  this  device  each  warp-thread  becomes 
completely  separated  from  the  others,  and  is  held 
securely  in  place  by  some  one  of  the  strands,  all  of 
which,  by  the  process  of  intertwining,  have  together 
formed  a  sort  of  loosely  twilled  rope.  At  the  opposite 
end  of  the  warp  the  weaver  employs  the  same  kind 
of  device  for  securing  the  threads.  The  wooden 
frame  is  now  taken  apart,  rods  are  fastened  in  the 
sheds  to  keep  them  open,  the  warp  is  drawn  off  from 
the  poles,  and  the  whole  appliance  is  ready  for  the 
loom. 

The  looms  are  of  the  same  kind  as  those  in  use 
before  the  days  of  the  Coronado  Expedition.  The 
frame  is  composed  of  several  pieces  of  wood,  held 
in  place  by  thongs.  Two  posts  driven  firmly  into  the 
ground  several  feet  apart,  or  better  still,  two  slender 
trees  growing  a  short  distance  from  each  other,  with 
a  rather  heavy  cross-beam  four  or  five  feet  above  the 
ground,  connecting  them,  constitute  the  chief  portion 


172  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

of  the  framework.  A  pole  of  about  the  same  length 
as  that  of  the  cross-beam  is  held  in  place  several 
inches  below  it  by  means  of  a  slack  cord  running 
spirally  around  the  two,  throughout  their  length. 
Still  another  pole  is  rather  closely  bound  by  loops 
to  the  latter  from  below ;  and  to  a  cord,  wound  about 
this  from  end  to  end,  are  attached  the  upper  loops 
of  the  warp.  On  or  near  the  ground  is  another 
firmly  secured  cross-beam,  to  which  are  fastened,  in 
much  the  same  fashion  as  above,  the  loops  of  the 
lower  warp-threads. 

The  upper  shed  is  still  kept  open  by  a  rod,  which 
is  not  to  be  withdrawn  until  the  blanket  is  practically 
finished.  In  the  lower  shed,  the  rod  is  retained  only 
until  a  heald-rod  is  substituted.  The  latter,  when  in 
place,  lies  not  within  but  along  the  outside  of  the  shed, 
and  forms  the  rigid  portion  of  the  apparatus  to  be 
used  in  bringing  forward  the  alternating  threads  in 
the  operation  of  filling  in  the  woof.  In  preparing  this 
heald-rod  for  operation,  one  end  of  a  heald-string 
several  feet  in  length  is  carried  from  the  right  edge 
of  the  warp  completely  through  the  lower  shed,  and 
the  rest  of  the  string;  remains  out  upon  the  ground. 
The  weaver  pulls  just  enough  of  the  string  out 
beyond  the  left  edge  of  the  shed  to  form  a  loop,  and, 
holding  the  heald-rod  horizontally,  brings  it  just  far 
enough  from  left  to  right  to  receive  this  first  loop. 
She  then  pushes  her  finger  out  between  the  first 
and  third  thread,  draws  a  portion  of  the  heald-string 
toward  her,  twists  it  into  another  loop,  carries  the  rod 


NAVAJO  BLANKET  WEAVING.    PUSHING  DOWN  THE  BATTEN 

(After  Matthews)  Page  171 


INDUSTRIES  173 

a  little  to  the  right,  over  which  she  slips  the  newly 
made  loop ;  and  so,  with  the  making  of  loops  and  the 
advancing  of  the  rod,  she  continues  the  operation 
across  the  warp  and  finally  fastens  the  string  to  the 
rod.  It  can  now  be  easily  imagined  how,  by  slightly 
pulling  the  heald-rod,  every  other  thread,  i.  e.,  all  the 
anterior  threads  of  the  lower  shed,  may  be  drawn 
forward  at  once  to  give  room  for  the  introduction 
of  the  cross-cords  comprising  the  woof. 

The  tools  used  are  few  and  simple. 

The  batten  consists  of  a  piece  of  hard  smooth 
wood,  some  two  or  three  feet  in  length,  two  or  three 
inches  in  width,  about  a  half -inch  in  thickness,  and 
tapering  down  from  the  middle  into  an  edge  running 
completely  around  it. 

The  reed- fork  is  a  flat  piece  of  wood,  about  a  foot 
in  length  and  of  much  less  than  a  hand's  width,  at 
one  end  of  which  is  a  tapering  handle,  and  at  the 
other  a  gradual  modification  into  six  or  eight  sharp, 
thin,  wooden  tines. 

In  this  primitive  weaving  no  shuttle  is  employed. 
The  yarn  is  wound  into  balls  and  pushed  along  within 
the  sheds  by  means  of  the  fingers;  or  sometimes  a 
stick  takes  the  place  of  what  in  the  looms  of  civiliza 
tion  would  be^a  shuttle. 

When  everything  is  ready,  the  weaver  squats  on 
the  ground  in  front  of  her  rude  loom  and  pulls  for 
ward  the  heald-rod,  which  opens  the  lower  shed 
about  an  inch.  Into  this  shed  she  pushes  the  batten, 
flatwise  with  the  warp,  and  then  turns  it  half  over 


174  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

so  as  to  spread  the  anterior  and  posterior  threads  as 
far  apart  as  possible.  The  cross-thread  is  then  intro 
duced,  pushed  down  into  place  with  the  reed-fork, 
and  finally  beaten  down  firmly  with  the  batten.  If 
the  warp  is  wider  than  the  length  of  the  batten,  and 
the  weft-thread,  therefore,  cannot  be  carried  entirely 
across  in  a  single  operation  —  which  is  usually  the 
case  —  the  shed  is  again  opened,  the  thread  carried 
along,  pushed  down  into  place  with  the  reed-fork, 
and  the  batten  used  as  before.  At  the  next  step  the 
heald-rod  is  allowed  to  hang  loosely,  the  shed-rod  is 
pushed  down  closely  to  it,  the  former  posterior 
threads  now  become  anterior,  the  second  cross- 
thread  is  introduced,  and  the  reed-fork  and  batten  are 
used  as  with  the  previous  thread.  Thus  the  weaving 
goes  on. 

In  making  designs,  there  must  be  a  change  of 
thread  whenever  the  pattern  calls  for  a  change  in 
color.  When  the  shift  is  made,  neither  thread  is 
broken,  but  the  second  is  skillfully  wound  once 
around  the  first  so  that  there  is  no  discontinuity  in 
the  weave.  When  the  designs  are  very  intricate, 
as  many  as  twenty  or  thirty  balls  of  yarn,  each 
ingeniously  enclosed  in  a  loop  to  prevent  unwinding, 
may  be  seen  hanging  on  the  web.  Since  a  Navaho 
blanket  is  a  single-ply  fabric,  the  designs  are  alike 
on  both  sides. 

The  loom  has  no  revolving  cloth-beam;  so,  after 
the  blanket  has  been  woven  to  the  height  of  some 
three  or  four  feet,  the  weaver  loosens  the  spiral  cord 


INDUSTRIES  175 

above  and  thus  lowers  the  yarn-beam.  She  makes  a 
fold  in  the  web  down  near  the  ground,  sews  it  very 
firmly  all  the  way  across,  tightens  the  warp,  and  goes 
on  with  her  weaving  as  before.  It  may  be  necessary 
to  make  three  or  four  of  these  plaits  before  a  long 
blanket  can  be  finished. 

The  most  tedious  of  all  the  work  comes  at  the  end. 
The  rods  and  batten  cannot  be  used  on  account  of 
limited  space ;  and  so  the  yarn  is  slowly  worked  along 
by  means  of  the  fingers  alone,  or  perhaps  with  the 
aid  of  a  fragment  of  wood,  and  finally  pushed  into 
place  with  the  reed-fork.  The  strong,  three-stranded 
cords  which  have  already  been  noticed,  are  utilized 
to  give  strength  and  service  to  the  ends  of  the  fabric, 
and  equally  stout  worsted  cords  are  intertwined  with 
the  cross-threads  along  the  sides. 

Such  articles  as  belts,  hair-bands,  and  sashes  vary 
considerably  from  the  blankets  in  their  manufacture. 
The  looms  are  far  more  simple,  but  the  devices  for 
adjusting  the  threads  in  the  process  of  weaving  are 
more  complex.  The  designs  are  purposely  not  alike 
on  both  sides,  and  this  result  is  brought  about  by 
increasing  the  heald-rods  and,  consequently,  the 
number  of  sheds. 

In  comparison  with  civilized  man,  and  even  in  com- 
parison  with  others  of  his  own  race,  the  Pueblo  did 
not  attain  great  art  in  wood-craft.  It  was  easier  to 
make  dwellings  out  of  adobe  clay  than  to  hack  down 
trees  with  stone  axes,  remove  the  branches,  lug  the 
timbers  for  long  distances,  and  put  them  into  place. 


1 76  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

It  was  sufficiently  difficult  to  furnish  even  the  neces 
sary  poles  for  roof-foundations.  In  their  homes  there 
was  practically  no  wooden  furniture.  There  were  no 
great  inland  lakes  or  rivers  of  sufficiently  abundant 
water  to  foster  the  art  of  canoe-making.  In  their 
religious  ceremonies  only  a  few  pieces  of  decorated 
wood  were  used  as  a  part  of  the  paraphernalia.  Some 
carefully  selected  pieces  of  trees  and  shrubs  were 
required  in  the  production  of  such  weapons  as  the 
bow  and  arrow,  the  spear,  the  war-club,  and  the 
boomerang.  Wood  was  also  put  to  more  or  less  use 
in  the  construction  of  traps  and  snares  for  catching 
game.  A  few  rude  implements  were  fashioned  from 
it  for  use  in  household  occupations  and  on  their 
farm  lands. 

Several  useful  implements  were  made  of  bone. 
Pieces  of  various  forms  and  sizes  were  taken  from 
the  animals,  rubbed  into  more  desirable  shapes  upon 
gritty  stones,  and  carefully  polished.  The  natural 
strength  and  smoothness  of  this  material,  when  con 
verted  into  such  implements  as  awls  and  scrapers, 
make  them  very  valuable.  Bone  has  been  used  con 
siderably  also  in  ornamentation,  especially  in  personal 
decoration. 

One  is  tempted  to  say  that,  after  all,  it  is  the 
articles  of  stone  that  are  the  most  characteristic  prod 
ucts  of  the  limited  industries  of  the  Pueblos.  In  many 
respects  these  seem  to  symbolize  the  life  and  nature 
of  the  people.  The  age  of  culture  of  the  aborigines  of 
America  in  general  takes  its  name  from  the  name  of 


INDUSTRIES  177 

this  material,  out  of  which  they  fashioned  so  many 
things  of  beauty  and  service.  Implements  and 
weapons  of  stone  are  found  as  the  typical  creations 
of  primitive  life  all  over  the  world;  and  the  Indians 
of  the  Southwest  possess  not  only  the  ordinary 
representative  articles  of  this  grade  of  advancement, 
but  they  have  borrowed  or  invented  many  others 
which  have  proved  of  great  value  in  their  ordinary 
pursuits  of  life,  from  the  ingenious  turquoise-drill 
to  the  slowly  produced  metate.  Grooved  stone  axes 
and  stone  hammers  were  used  by  the  cliff-dwellers 
as  well  as  by  the  Pueblos,  and  they  are  to-day  found 
in  the  dry  caves,  often  with  wooden  handles  still 
attached.  Stones  for  grinding*  and  polishing  are 
also  common  and  of  many  sizes.  Mullers  for  mixing 
paints  and  pulverizing  minerals,  mortars  and  pestles 
for  pounding  and  grinding  seeds  and  grains,  chisels 
for  various  purposes,  gorgets  for  both  ornament  and 
protection, —  these  add  very  essentially  to  the  aggre 
gate  of  stone-ware  of  every  village.  Probably,  in  no 
other  part  of  the  country  have  such  exquisite  spear 
heads  and  arrow-heads  been  made.  The  abundance  of 
beautiful  and  appropriate  material  would  encourage 
this.  Here  are  the  scores  of  square  miles  of  petrified 
forests  already  noticed.  From  these  beds  of  crystals 
as  from  other  valuable  rock-abounding  localities  of 
the  Southwest,  countless  pieces  of  rock  have  been 
carried  away  to  be  made  up  into  useful  articles, 
especially  articles  of  defense.  By  means  of  rude 
implements,  fragments  of  variegated  stone  were 


178  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

broken  into  approximate  size,  chipped,  smoothed, 
polished,  and  fashioned  into  desired  forms.  Refer 
ring  to  arrow-making  among  the  Pueblos,  Peet  says : 
"  The  arrow-heads  are  particularly  noticeable  on 
account  of  their  delicacy,  perfection,  symmetry,  di- 
minutiveness,  and  exquisite  coloring.  We  first  find 
them  varying  from  less  than  half  an  inch  in  length 
to  three  inches.  The  materials  are  of  agate,  jasper, 
chalcedony,  flint,  carnelian,  quartz,  sandstone,  ob- 
sedian,  silicified  and  agatized  wood.  Sometimes  we 
find  a  beautiful  transparent  amber-colored  chalcedony 
specimen;  again,  a  flesh-colored  arrow-head  made  of 
agatized  wood;  and  another  of  pea-green  tint,  red 
jasper,  flint  of  every  shade  and  color."  l 

In  order  to  make  the  arrows  more  effective,  the 
tips  have  often  been  besmeared  with  poison.  The 
deadly  preparations  were  made  from  juices  of  certain 
native  plants,  or  perhaps  more  often  from  the  venorn 
of  the  many  poisonous  animals  abounding  in  the 
country. 
'The  Cliff-Dwellers  and  Pueblos,  p.  305. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

RELIGION 

RELIGION  as  a  system  of  faith  and  wor 
ship  is  evidently  universal ;  though  some 
eminent  authorities  have  held  the  opposite 
opinion,  among  whom  are  Herbert  Spencer  l  and  Sir 
John  Lubbock.2  On  this  question  J.  Freeman  Clarke 
writes :  "  As  a  matter  of  fact,  however,  no  such 
instance  [a  tribe  without  religion]  has  been  found, 
certainly  not  verified."  3  Ratzel  affirms  that,  "  Eth 
nography  knows  no  race  devoid  of  religion,  but  only 
differences  in  the  degree  to  which  religious  ideas  are 
developed."  4  Brinton,  who  has  made  a  careful  study 
of  evidences,  and  who  is  certainly  excellent  authority 
on  almost  all  matters  pertaining  to  primitive  life, 
uses  these  emphatic  words :  "  The  fact  is,  there  has 
not  been  a  single  tribe,  no  matter  how  rude,  known  in 
history  or  visited  by  travelers,  which  has  been  shown 
to  be  destitute  of  religion  under  some  form."  5  It  is 
probably  safe,  therefore,  to  say  that  religion  exists 
in  one  form  or  another  among  all  the  races  of  earth, 

1  Principles  of  Sociology,  vol.  iii,  chap,  i,  et  al. 

2  Prehistoric  Times  (third  edition),  p.  576;  Origin  of  Civ 
ilization,  chap.  iv. 

8  Ten  Great  Religions,  vol.  ii,  p.  17. 
4  History  of  Mankind,  vol.  i,  p.  40. 
6  Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples,  p.  30. 
179 


i8o  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

though  in  many  instances  it  is  hardly  more  than  mere 
superstition.  It  not  only  exists,  it  lies  at  the  very 
heart  of  primitive  life.  It  crops  out  in  a  thousand 
different  and  unexpected  forms.  Ratzel  says :  "  Re 
ligion  is  at  once  philosophy,  science,  historic  tradition, 
poetry."  *  "  We  may  indeed  say,"  writes  Davidson, 
"  that  all  primitive  thought  is  religious  and  super 
stitious."  2  The  savage  looks  out  upon  the  universe 
and  finds  it  full  of  mystery.  He  endeavors  in  his 
simple  way  to  interpret  the  extraordinary  things 
about  him.  What  he  cannot  account  for  he  looks 
upon  with  dread  or  veneration.  Even  civilized  man, 
who  can  explain  so  much  of  natural  phenomenon, 
is  awed  by  the  deeper  mysteries  which  he  cannot  com 
prehend.  Again  and  again,  he  stands  helpless  as  a 
child  in  the  midst  of  calamities  and  sorrows,  which, 
with  all  his  science,  he  has  not  been  able  to  explain  or 
avert.  It  is,  therefore,  not  at  all  singular  that  the 
Indians  in  general,  and  those  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
in  particular,  surrounded  as  they  are  by  striking  and 
majestic  objects,  the  origin  and  significance  of  which 
they  cannot  understand,  should  be  saturated  with 
superstition.  The  lofty  peaks,  the  dark  caves,  the 
narrow  ravines,  the  steep  precipices,  the  tall,  lonely, 
and  isolated  rocks,  the  forests  of  mountain  pines,  the 
noisy,  rugged,  and  impetuous  streams,  the  unusual 
intensity  of  lights  and  shadows,  the  ancient  ruins, 
the  homes  and  graves  of  ancestors, —  all  co-operate 

1  History  of  Mankind,  vol.  i,  p.  39. 
"History  of  Education,  p.  19. 


RELIGION  181 

to  stir  the  imagination  of  the  natives,  to  inspire  them 
with  awe,  and  to  leave  upon  them  impressions  which 
deeply  influence  their  daily  life  and  conduct. 

This  experience  is  the  same  as  has  prevailed  in  all 
early  religions.  The  natural  objects  that  abound  in  a 
locality  are  likely,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  to 
receive  reverential  attention,  especially  if  they  are 
closely  associated  with  the  weighty  affairs  of  life. 
Trees  have  been  worshiped  in  almost  every  corner 
of  the  old  world.  "  Primitive  man,"  says  Brinton, 
"  was  arboreal.  A  hollow  tree  was  his  home,  its 
branches  his  place  of  refuge,  its  fruits  his  sustenance. 
Naturally  the  tree  became  associated  with  his  earliest 
religious  thoughts."  1  The  sun,  moon,  stars,  fire, 
and  the  elements  generally  have  been  reverenced  by 
millions  of  people  living  between  the  Sahara  Desert 
and  the  banks  of  the  Indus.  "  So  much  has  been 
written  of  solar  myths  and  star-worship,"  further 
writes  Brinton,  "  that  every  reader  is  aware  of  their 
practical  universality  among  early  nations."  Dogs, 
cats,  bulls,  and  scores  of  other  animals  have  figured 
in  religious  rites  in  many  widely  separated  lands,  and 
even  through  many  grades  of  intellectual  culture. 
A  few  lines  from  the  famous  Egyptian  poem,  "  A 
Hymn  to  the  Nile,"  may  appropriately  be  admitted 
here :  — 

"  Oh,  inundation  of  Nile,  offerings  are 
made  to  thee; 

1  Religions  of  Primitive  Peoples,  p.  150. 
'Id.,  p.  138. 


182  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Oxen  are  slain  to  thee; 

Great  festivals  are  kept  for  thee; 

Fowls  are  sacrificed  to  thee; 

Beasts  of  the  field  are  caught  for  thee; 

Pure  flames  are  offered  to  thee; 

Offerings  are  made  to  every  god; 

As  they  are  made  unto  Nile."  * 

The  religion  of  the  Pueblos,  considered  in  dis 
tinction  from  that  of  other  peoples  of  the  world,  or 
from  that  of  other  branches  of  their  own  race, 
derives  its  chief  interest  from  the  nature  of  the 
country,  the  peculiarities  of  the  environment.  One 
must  not  forget  the  limited  number  of  rivers  and 
streams,  and,  out  of  this  number,  the  few  that  main 
tain  a  perennial  existence.  One  must  think  of  the 
sparse  population,  getting  food  supplies  from  the 
narrow  fringes  of  vegetable  growth  along  these  few 
water-courses.  The  lack  of  tilled  and  tillable  land 
among  the  aborigines  of  the  Southwest  was  really 
surprising.  Morgan  states  that  the  sedentary  Indians 
of  New  Mexico  "  cultivate  about  one  acre  out  of 
every  hundred  thousand."  2 

Taking  the  year  as  a  whole,  the  quantity  of  rainfall 
is  very  limited;  and  the  supply  of  moisture  in  all 
forms  is  quickly  absorbed  by  the  thirsty  earth.  This 
physical  feature  constitutes  the  very  marrow  of  the 
religion.  The  supply  of  food,  which  is  always  a  prob 
lem  among  civilized  nations,  with  all  their  facilities 
for  obtaining  it,  becomes  the  paramount  object  of 
thought  among  the  simple  Pueblos,  buffeted  as  they 

'Translated  by  F.  C.  Cook. 

2  Houses  and  House  Life,  p.  134. 


RELIGION  183 

are  by  capricious  nature.  They  cannot  go  out  like 
Hiawatha,  build  the  birch-bark  canoe  and  fish,  for 
there  is  no  birch  bark,  there  is  no  "  shining  big  sea 
water,"  and  there  are  hardly  any  fish;  and,  in  fact, 
the  few  that  are  found  are,  in  many  places,  safe 
from  being  caught  on  account  of  superstition,  the 
idea  being  that  the  fish,  in  some  mysterious  way, 
are  responsible  for  the  existence  of  the  water,  rather 
than  that  the  water  is  responsible  for  the  existence  of 
the  fish.  Game  has  evidently  been  scarce,  and  could 
not  safely  be  relied  upon.  The  people  have,  therefore, 
been  narrowed  down  to  drawing  a  precarious  living 
from  a  reluctant  soil.  Corn,  before  the  arrival  of 
the  white  man,  was,  as  has  already  been  noticed, 
more  than  ninety  per  cent  of  their  food.  With 
starvation  constantly  staring  them  in  the  face,  it  is 
not  surprising  that  the  thoughts  uppermost  in  their 
minds,  the  superstitions  most  prevalent  among  them, 
should  cluster  principally  about  the  great  question 
of  daily  sustenance.  Therefore,  instead  of  seeking 
more  favorable  lands,  where  food  could  be  produced 
with  less  effort,  but  where  at  the  same  time  they 
would  be  constantly  exposed  to  attack  from  more 
powerful  and  hostile  tribes,  they  evidently  pre 
ferred  to  remain  in  these  unattractive  regions,  where, 
with  greater  safety,  they  could  use  their  ingenuity  in 
gaining  and  retaining  the  favor  of  the  elements  and 
the  elemental  gods. 

It  has  been  noticed  already  that  the  religions  of 
the  world  are  strongly  influenced  by  natural  objects. 


184  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

It  may  be  said  further  that,  while  all  things,  even 
the  mute  and  inanimate,  are  supposed  by  primitive 
man  to  be  imbued  with  life,  and  every  nook  and 
corner  of  the  earth  to  be  tenanted  by  imperceptible 
deities,  the  material  things  in  motion,  the  phenomena 
about  him  appearing  and  disappearing,  constantly 
changing  in  shape,  size,  or  color,  particularly  appeal 
to  him.  He  watches  with  interest  and  wonder  the 
various  manifestations  of  creation,  which  are  clearly 
understood  by  civilized  man  and  hardly  attract  notice. 
A  small  cloud  gathers  on  the  horizon,  grows  into 
enormous  size  in  a  few  moments,  sweeps  over  his 
head,  flies  along  the  tops  of  the  mountains  out  into 
the  plains  and  disappears.  Again,  the  whole  heavens 
become  overcast,  and  daylight  is  materially  lessened. 
From  the  dark  clouds  darts  the  lightning,  and  there 
comes  a  rumbling  sound,  followed  at  once  by  a  deaf 
ening,  terrifying  roar;  and  soon  afterward,  on  those 
self-same  clouds,  is  hung  for  a  short  interval  a  bow 
of  indescribable  splendor.  At  certain  intervals  the 
earth  becomes  enveloped  in  darkness,  and  a  million 
sparkling  orbs  come  into  view  only  to  disappear  in 
the  morning  light.  At  the  far  north,  waves  and 
streaks  of  light  move  back  and  forth  like  lantern- 
flashes  thrown  upon  the  canvas.  In  the  morning  the 
eastern  sky  is  painted  in  scarlet,  and  in  the  west  a 
bright  glow  accompanies  the  death  of  the  day.  The 
moon  travels  through  the  sky,  constantly  changing 
in  size.  Sometimes  for  a  few  hours  a  black  body 
passes  gradually  over  it,  suggesting  that  this  animated 


RELIGION  185 

thing  of  beauty  is  being  swallowed  by  a  monster. 
Whirlwinds  of  dust  suddenly  spring  into  existence, 
rapidly  increase  in  velocity,  pass  up  into  the  air, 
and  dissolve  into  nothingness.  The  dreadful  cyclone 
appears,  carrying  destruction  with  it.  A  meteor  darts 
through  the  sky  and  melts  away  into  air.  The  winds 
moan  and  the  trees  sway.  The  native  is  deeply  im 
pressed  with  all  these,  but  there  is  one  object  in 
particular  before  which  he  stands  in  superstitious 
awe.  It  is  the  sun.  Nor  is  this  surprising.  Like  a 
living  thing,  it  sweeps  across  the  sky  every  day, 
diffusing  light,  pouring  out  heat,  rising  and  setting 
at  different  points  along  the  horizon  month  after 
month,  and  by  some  mysterious  power  stimulating 
life  in  plants  and  ripening  grains  for  the  harvest. 
How  favoringly  did  the  ancient  Egyptians,  even  in 
the  palmy  days  of  a  well-developed  civilization,  look 
to  the  sun,  that  wondrous  and  unfailing  orb,  which 
covered  the  rich,  alluvial  banks  of  their  venerated 
river  with  a  thrifty  vegetation,  and  filled  the  land 
with  plenty ! 

Among  the  American  aborigines  the  sun  has  been 
a  specially  prominent  object  of  worship.  It  is  hardly 
an  exaggeration  to  say  that  the  solar  myth  has  been 
universal  among  them.  As  we  would  naturally  sup 
pose,  the  Indians  of  the  Southwest  look  to  it  with 
peculiar  reverence ;  for  it  means  much  to  them.  "  The 
Mokis,"  it  is  said,  "  believe  in  a  great  spirit,  who 
lives  in  the  sun,  and  who  gives  them  light  and  heat. 
With  them  there  is  male  and  female  in  the  idea  of 


1 86  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

deity;  the  earth  is  the  female,  and  all  living  things 
are  the  issue."  1 

Another  myth  of  very  wide  extent  is  that  of  the 
thunder  bird.  Reports  of  it  come  from  regions  about 
Hudson  Bay  and  the  border  lands  of  the  Arctic 
Ocean,  from  most  sections  of  the  United  States, 
including  Alaska,  and  especially  the  regions  about 
the  Great  Lakes  and  the  vast  plains  west  of  the 
Mississippi  River,  from  Mexico  and  Central  America. 
On  the  prairies  and  plains  the  absence  of  striking 
natural  objects  and  the  flat  and  monotonous  configu 
ration  of  the  country  doubtless  contributed  greatly 
toward  making  this  myth  of  so  much  importance  in 
that  region.  In  the  Rocky  Mountains  generally, 
where  deep  forests,  dark  canons,  and  snow-capped 
mountain  peaks  keep  the  imagination  keenly  alive, 
this  preternatural  object  intensely  affected  the  life 
and  thought  of  the  lonely  and  isolated  tenants.  In 
the  Southwest,  the  sedentary  tribes,  in  addition  to 
such  stimuli,  are  still  more  deeply  affected;  since 
they  feel  that  this  capricious  bird  may  powerfully 
affect  their  food  supply. 

The  fundamental  conception  of  this  myth  is  that 
there  flies  through  the  heavens  a  bird,  which  on 
account  of  its  immense  size  darkens  the  sky,  the 
flapping  of  whose  wings  causes  the  thunder,  the 
winking  of  whose  eyes  creates  lightning,  the  shaking 
of  whose  feathers  scatters  the  rain,  and  the  velocity 

1  Scott:  Eleventh  Census  Report.    Indians,  p.  193. 


RELIGION  187 

of  whose  body  produces  the  wind.  Fair  weather  sig 
nifies  that  the  bird  is  in  good  humor;  bad  weather, 
that  he  is  displeased. 

The  general  notion  of  this  winged  creature  is 
essentially  the  same  wherever  found,  but  localities 
frequently  disclose  differences  in  detail.  Some  tribes 
represent  thunder  as  proceeding  from  the  throat, 
some  think  lightning  to  be  the  tongue,  darting  out 
to  catch  food  or  to  destroy  enemies. 

There  are  many  traditions  relating  to  the  bird. 
Among  them  are  found  ingenious  accounts  of  his 
great  wisdom,  power,  love,  and  hate;  his  relationship 
to  other  birds ;  his  attitude  toward  human  beings,  in 
dividual  and  tribal.  The  stories  show  great  diversity 
in  composition.  Some  disclose  beautiful  and  pleasing 
conceptions,  worthy  of  being  woven  into  a  Greek 
mythology,  while  others  are  simply  vulgar. 

Representatives  of  the  bird  are  numerous  in  the 
field  of  aboriginal  decorative  art,  appearing  on  skins, 
bead-work,  basketry,  wood,  and  stone.  Here,  too,  the 
figures  are  sometimes  harsh  and  monstrous,  remind 
ing  us  of  some  of  the  crude  productions  of  the  banks 
of  the  Nile  or  the  Euphrates;  and  again  they  are 
unique  and  ingenious. 

The  thunder  bird  originated  in  the  attempt  of 
primitive  man  to  explain  clouds,  rain,  thunder,  light 
ning,  and  wind;  and  nothing  would  be  more  sug 
gestive  to  him  than  to  look  for  the  cause  of  these 
phenomena  among  the  denizens  of  the  air.  A  big 
black  bird,  therefore,  seems  to  satisfy  the  imagination 


1 88  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

of  the  native,  and  answers  fairly  well  his  inquiries 
regarding  the  phenomena  of  storms. 

Another  of  the  brute  creation  which  has  figured 
very  conspicuously  in  aboriginal  cults  is  the  snake. 
"Of  all  animals,"  says  Brinton,  "the  serpent !s"EKe~ 
most  mysterious.  No  wonder  it  possessed  the  fancy 
of  the  observant  child  of  nature.  Alone  of  all 
creatures  it  swiftly  progresses  without  feet,  fins, 
or  wings."  l  Lubbock  writes  of  the  existence  of 
serpent-worship  in  Egypt,  India,  Phoenicia,  Baby 
lonia,  Greece,  Italy  (slightly),  Persia,  Cashmere, 
Cambodia,  Thibet,  China  (somewhat),  Ceylon, 
Guinea,  and  Abyssinia.  Without  attempting  to  cover 
the  whole  ground  in  America,  he  refers  to  the  wor 
ship  of  this  animal  by  the  Aztecs,  Peruvians,  Natches, 
Caribs,  Manitarris,  and  Mandans.2 

The  serpent  enters  largely  into  the  religious  cere 
monies  of  the  Pueblos.  Among  the  Mokis,  there  is 
"  Balilokon,  the  great  water  snake,  the  spirit  of  the 
element  of  water,  and  they  see  him  in  the  rains  and 
snows,  the  rivers  and  springs,  the  sap  in  the  trees, 
and  the  blood  in  the  body."  3  Analogy  is  a  strong 
element  in  the  crude  reasonings  and  inferences  of  the 
Pueblos,  as  it  is  among  all  primitive  people.  Resem 
blances  in  form  indicate  to  their  minds  resemblances 
in  attributes.  To  their  thinking,  the  zig-zag  trail  of 
the  lightning  through  the  skies  must  be  associated 

1  The  Myths  of  the  New  World,  p.  129. 
a  Origin  of  Civilization  and  Primitive  Condition  of  Man, 
p.   176. 
'Scott:  Eleventh  Census  Report.   Indians,  p.  193. 


RELIGION  189 

somehow  with  the  tortuous  rattlesnake  on  the  land. 
Besides,  there  is  another  striking  resemblance,  as  J. 
Walter  Fewkes  adds,  they  both  kill  when  they  strike. 
Again,  along  with  the  lightning,  come  showers;  and 
so  there  seems  to  be  a  mysterious  bond  joining  snake, 
lightning,  and  rain. 

There  is  another  important  factor  of  religious  and 
social  life,  which  cannot  be  passed  over  without  a 
rather  extended  notice,  and  which  may  be  fittingly 
introduced  for  consideration  with  a  remark  from 
Christopher  Cranch,  the  eminent  scholar  and  trans 
lator  :  "  When  we  come  to  think  profoundly  of  it,  we 
find  that  we  cannot  move  a  step  in  the  region  of  ideas 
without  the  aid  of  symbolism.  Every  thought,  how 
ever  abstract,  rises  clothed  in  an  investment  of 
symbol.  A  material  image  attends  it,  close  as  a 
shadow  to  substance;  and  it  is  impossible  to  receive 
it  into  the  mind  without  its  attendant."  l  This  is 
almost  as  sweeping  as  Emerson's  expression :  "  The 
world  is  emblematic."  2  If  a  man  in  a  civilized  com 
munity  should  attempt  to  tabulate  the  symbolic  ob 
jects  he  sees  on  any  ordinary  day  of  his  life,  he  would 
be  astonished  at  the  length  of  his  list.  It  would  be 
difficult,  probably  impossible,  to  name  any  material 
thing  in  the  animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral  kingdom, 
that  persons  have  not  used  sometime  and  somewhere 
with  symbolic  signification.  The  flags  of  the  great 
nations,  the  cross  among  Christians,  the  sceptre  to 

*The  Galaxy,  vol.  xvi,  p.  375. 

"Nature,  Addresses  and  Lectures,  p.  38. 


190  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

denote  authority,  the  sword  as  an  emblem  of  war, 
the  lamp  as  a  sign  of  knowledge, —  these  in  civilized 
lands  are  constantly  before  us.  Among  animals  the 
lion  typifies  strength,  the  lamb  innocence,  the  donkey 
obstinacy,  the  dog  sagacity,  the  dove  constancy,  and 
so  on  down  through  the  list.  In  the  vegetable  world 
the  tree  signifies  knowledge  and  life,  the  olive  branch 
peace,  the  palm  martyrdom;  and,  in  simply  naming 
these,  scores  of  other  botanic  symbols  come  to  mind. 
Flowers,  wherever  they  grow,  tell  to  the  people  their 
stories  in  emblematic  language.  Iron  is  a  symbol  of 
strength,  granite  of  firmness,  and  so  on.  Lovers  of 
jewelry  are  never  tired  of  studying  the  language  of 
gems.  Every  color  of  the  rainbow  is  used  symbolically. 
Written  language  itself  is  an  expedient  for  convey 
ing  thought  by  means  of  symbols.  The  letters  com 
prising  the  words  are  hieroglyphics,  which,  through 
long  lapses  of  time  and  in  the  hands  of  many  peoples, 
have  become  smoothed,  simplified,  and  conventional 
ized.  The  strange  polymorphic  characters,  cut  on  the 
rocks  of  ancient  Egypt  or  sent  to-day  on  a  package 
of  laundry  from  the  Chinaman,  represent  more  or 
less  closely  objects  from  common  life.  Better  exam 
ples  still,  because  nearer  to  the  heart  of  nature,  are 
the  crude  scrawls  left  by  the  American  Indian  on 
the  rocks  and  trees  of  his  native  land.  So  the  char 
acters  on  the  printed  page,  interpreting  the  thoughts 
of  Shakespeare  or  Plato,  are  simply  pictures,  or 
ideographs,  once  made  by  savages,  but  modified, 
simplified,  and  systemized  by  civilized  man. 


RELIGION  191 

But  the  very  ideas  themselves  suggest  symbols. 
Emerson  says :  "  Every  word  which  is  used  to  express 
a  moral  or  intellectual  fact,  if  traced  to  its  root,  is 
found  to  be  borrowed  from  some  material  appear 
ance.  Right  means  straight;  wrong  means  twisted; 
Spirit  primarily  means  wind ;  transgression,  the  cross 
ing  of  a  line;  supercilious,  the  raising  of  the  eyebrow. 
We  say  the  heart  to  express  emotion,  the  head  to 
denote  thought.  .  .  .  Light  and  darkness  are  our 
familiar  expressions  for  knowledge  and  ignorance; 
and  heat  for  love.  Visible  distance  behind  and  before 
us  is  respectively  our  image  of  memory  and  hope."  1 

These  symbols  have  gradually  come  into  existence 
along  with  the  growth  of  nations  and  the  develop 
ment  of  institutions.  Some  originated  away  back  in 
the  unrecorded  morning  of  time.  Others  have  been 
adopted  through  historical  associations.  Others  still 
have  gained  their  popularity  through  real  or  fanciful 
resemblances. 

Primitive  life  is  full  of  symbolism.  The  American 
aborigines  are  strongly  influenced  by  it  in  all  the 
important  phases  of  their  life.  Births,  marriages, 
and  deaths  bring  the  practice  of  it  prominently  to  the 
surface.  It  runs  through  all  their  art.  From  the  mon 
strosities  on  the  huge  totem  poles  of  Alaska,  to  the 
complicated  figures  on  the  monoliths  of  Yucatan,  one 
may  find  all  varieties  of  objects  to  illustrate  aborig 
inal  symbolism.  In  the  Southwest  the  animals  and 
plants  with  which  the  natives  are  familiar,  the 
1  Nature,  Addresses  and  Lectures,  pp.  31,  32. 


192  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

weapons  they  use,  notably  the  bow  and  arrow,  their 
various  utensils,  especially  their  baskets  and  jars,  are 
constant  reminders  of  the  extended  use  of  emblematic 
devices. 

Some  of  the  animals  which  have  been  used  very 
extensively,  and  the  representations  of  which  are 
oftentimes  notably  distorted  or  embellished  in  order 
to  depict  more  vividly  various  religious  conceptions, 
are  the  serpent,  deer,  bear,  eagle,  raven,  coyote,  rab 
bit,  owl,  tadpole,  toad,  lizard,  butterfly,  and  beetle. 
Inanimate  objects  which  appeal  particularly  to  the 
Pueblos  are  clouds,  lightning,  whirlwinds,  snow,  rain, 
mountain  peaks,  and  gullies.  Many  plants  which  fur 
nish  food  and  clothing  such  as  corn  and  cotton,  and 
many  others  which  are  used  as  medicines  or  condi 
ments,  are  extensively  drawn  upon.  Crosses,  arches, 
and  various  ingeniously  arranged  strokes  and  lines 
are  used  without  limit  to  typify  things  abstract  and 
concrete.  Arches  are  used  very  frequently  to  repre 
sent  sky,  and  occasionally  clouds.  Winds  are  repre 
sented  by  the  cross,  lightnings  by  zig-zags  running 
in  any  direction,  and  falling  rain  by  straight,  parallel 
lines.  Smoke  and  feathers  are  used  as  symbols  for 
clouds.  The  Jerusalem  cross  denotes  a  body  of  still 
water,  and  a  winding  line  a  river.  In  fact  civilized 
man  can  but  vaguely  realize  the  extensive  use  of 
symbols  to  these  men,  who  had  not  yet  developed 
an  alphabet.  When,  for  closer  observation,  we  nar 
row  our  view  of  the  field  of  symbolism,  we  are  still 
more  impressed  with  its  powerful  influence. 


RELIGION  193 

No  one  can  fail  to  notice  the  prominence  that  is 
given  to  certain  numerals  in  civilized  society.  The 
number  one  has  been  recognized  from  time  im 
memorial  as  a  symbol  of  unity,  harmony,  and 
universality.  Pythagoras  called  it  the  good  princi 
ple.  The  great  universe  itself  with  its  parts  kept 
in  place  by  an  all-pervading  law  suggests  Pope's 
couplet :  - 

"  All  are  but  parts  of  one  stupendous  whole, 
Whose  body  nature  is  and  God  the  soul." 

Two  is  the  symbol  of  contrast,  comparison,  and 
opposition.  It  is  suggested  by  that  duality  that  runs 
through  nature :  light  and  darkness,  cold  and  heat, 
male  and  female;  by  the  human  body  with  its 
double  brain,  two  eyes,  two  ears,  two  arms,  two 
feet;  by  human  attributes,  such  as  joy  and  sorrow, 
hope  and  fear,  truth  and  falsehood,  wisdom  and 
folly. 

The  number  three  is,  in  many  respects,  the  most 
noted  of  all.  It  figures  very  conspicuously  in  the 
higher  religions  and  mythologies.  The  great  world 
poems,  especially  the  Divine  Comedy  and  Paradise 
Lost,  abound  in  references  to  it.  The  former  of  these 
is  even  constructed  on  triads,  and  groups  and  multi 
ples  of  triads.  As  Lowell  in  his  essay  on  Dante 
points  out :  "  The  poem  consists  of  three  parts,  Hell, 
Purgatory,  and  Paradise.  Each  part  is  divided  into 
thirty-three  cantos,  in  allusion  to  the  years  of  the 
Savior's  life;  for  though  Hell  contains  thirty-four, 
the  first  canto  is  merely  introductory.  In  the  form 
il 


194  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

of  the  verse  (triple  rhyme)  we  may  find  an  emblem 
of  the  Trinity,  and  in  the  three  divisions,  of  the  three 
fold  state  of  man, —  sin,  grace,  and  beatitude.  Sym 
bolic  meanings  reveal  themselves,  or  make  themselves 
suspected  everywhere,  as  in  the  architecture  of  the 
Middle  Ages." 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  in  the  Autocrat  of  the 
Breakfast  Table,  after  making  some  remarks  regard 
ing  the  tendency  of  persons  to  run  their  adjectives 
together  in  triads,  ends  with  these  words :  "  It  is,  I 
suspect,  an  instinctive  and  involuntary  effort  of  the 
mind  to  present  a  thought  or  image  with  the  three 
dimensions,  which  belong  to  every  solid,  an  uncon 
scious  handling  of  an  idea  as  if  it  had  length,  breadth, 
and  thickness." 

Doubtless  this  symbol  satisfies  our  sense  of  com 
pleteness.  It  is  a  mind  symbol.  It  is  well  illustrated 
in  the  syllogism  itself. 

Again,  since  this  number  extends  like  a  chain  of 
three  links  so  completely  over  the  natural  divisions 
of  space,  time,  and  other  relations  of  nature,  it  is 
not  at  all  singular  that  so  much  prominence  should 
be  given  to  it.  Time  is  divided  into  past,  present,  and 
future;  space  consists  of  the  distance  behind  us,  the 
point  where  we  stand,  and  the  distance  ahead,  also  the 
plain  at  our  feet,  the  space  above,  and  the  space 
below.  Various  mythologies,  such  as  the  Hindu, 
Egyptian,  and  Greek,  and  many  religions,  especially 
the  Christian,  furnish  abundant  illustrations  of  this 
number  as  a  symbol. 


RELIGION  195 

Another  numeral  which  almost  rivals  three  as  a 
symbol  is  seven.  Brinton  is  authority  for  the  state 
ment  that  this  number  occurs  in  the  Hebrew  scrip 
tures  over  three  hundred  and  sixty  times.1  Aside 
from  its  limitless  use  in  the  great  church  organ 
izations,  art,  history,  literature,  arithmancy,  astrol 
ogy  and  other  kinds  of  fortune-telling,  and  even 
sciences  have  contributed  to  make  this  number 
symbolically  popular.  The  seven  colors  of  the  rain 
bow,  the  seven  sages  of  Greece,  the  seven  ages 
of  man,  the  seven  planets,  the  seven  lamps  of 
architecture,  the  seven  heavens,  the  seven  days  of 
the  week,  and  scores  of  others  come  readily  to 
mind. 

Various  reasons  are  given  for  the  widespread  use 
of  this  symbol,  but  evidently  many  elements,  some 
traceable  far  back  into  prehistoric  times,  are  re 
quired  to  make  a  sufficient  explanation.  Brinton 
thinks  that  it  is  a  development  of  the  numbers 
three  and  four,  one  being  material,  the  other 
psychical.2 

There  are  several  other  numerals  such  as  five,  nine, 
thirteen,  seventeen,  forty,  seventy,  and  so  on,  all 
interesting  as  symbols,  but  made  up  mostly  from 
combinations  and  multiples  of  more  simple  numbers. 

Let  us  turn  to  another  numeral,  and  in  doing  so, 
we  are  carried  into  a  radically  different  atmosphere. 
We  come  face  to  face  with  the  numerical  symbol, 

1  Myths  of  the  New  World,  p.  83. 
'American  Anthropologist,  vol.  vii,  p.  168. 


196  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

that  predominates  in  the  early  stages  of  society.    In 
Hiawatha,  Longfellow  uses  these  words :  — 

"  Four  days  is  the  spirit's  journey 
To  the  land  of  ghosts  and  shadows, 
Four  its  lonely  night  encampments; 
Four  times  must  their  fires  be  lighted. 
Therefore,  when  the  dead  are  buried, 
Let  a  fire,  as  night  approaches, 
Four  times  on  the  grave  be  kindled. 
That  the  soul  upon  its  journey 
May  not  lack  the  cheerful  firelight, 
May  not  grope  about  in  darkness."  * 

Catlin  referring  to  the  mystic  number  four  among 
the  Mandans  says :  "  The  Okipa  invariably  lasts  four 
days;  four  men  are  selected  by  the  first  man  to 
cleanse  out  and  prepare  the  mystic  lodge  for  the 
occasion;  one  of  the  men  is  called  from  the  north 
part  of  the  village,  another  from  the  east,  a  third 
from  the  south,  and  a  fourth  from  the  west.  The  four 
sacks  of  water,  in  the  forms  of  large  tortoises,  rest 
ing  on  the  floor  of  the  lodge,  seem  to  typify  the  four 
cardinal  points.  The  four  buffalo  skulls  and  as  many 
human  skulls  on  the  floor  of  the  lodge,  the  four 
couples  of  dancers  in  the  buffalo  dance  and  the  four 
intervening  dances  in  the  same  dance,  deserve  our 
study.  The  buffalo  dance  in  front  of  the  mystic 
lodge,  repeated  on  the  four  days,  is  danced  four  times 
on  the  first  day,  eight  times  on  the  second,  twelve 
times  on  the  third,  and  sixteen  times  on  the  fourth. 
There  are  four  sacrifices  of  black  and  blue  cloths 
erected  over  the  entrance  of  the  mystic  lodge.  The 

1  Song  of  Hiawatha,  xix. 


RELIGION  197 

visits  of  the  Evil  Spirit  were  paid  to  four  of  the 
buffalo  in  the  buffalo  dance.  In  every  instance  the 
young  man  who  submitted  to  torture  in  the  Okipa 
had  four  splints,  or  skewers,  run  through  the  flesh 
on  his  leg,  four  through  his  arms,  and  four  through 
his  body."  ' 

In  the  folk  stories  compiled  by  Schoolcraft, 
Lummis,  Gushing,  and  others,  this  number  is  con 
stantly  cropping  out.  It  pervades  the  myths  of  the 
whole  western  world.  Four  days,  four  questions, 
four  articles,  four  dances,  four  rites,  four  times 
the  bear  and  antelope  meet,  four  times  the  yellow- 
corn  maidens  see  the  eagle, —  these  and  similar 
expressions  are  omnipresent  in  legend  and  tradition. 

No  one  has  given  this  subject  more  careful  atten 
tion  than  Brinton,  and  his  words  regarding  the  ori 
gin  of  this  much-used  numeral  have  great  weight. 
He  says :  "  The  measures  of  terrestrial  direction  have 
been  the  same  in  all  ages  and  countries,  though  the 
accuracy  with  which  they  have  been  located  varies 
with  the  mathematical  instruction  of  the  people. 
They  are  the  four  cardinal  points,  North,  South, 
East,  and  West.  That  these  four  points  should 
always  have  been  selected  depends  on  the  conforma 
tion  of  the  human  body  and  its  necessary  relations 
to  its  terrestrial  environment.  The  anterior  and  pos 
terior  planes  of  the  body,  the  right  and  left  hands, 
suggest  the  fourfold  relation  of  space,  which  is 

1  Quoted  by  Dorsey  in  the  Eleventh  Annual  Report  of  the 
Bureau  of  Ethnology,  p.  513. 


198  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

borne  out  by  the  celestial  points  defined  by  the  rising 
and  the  setting  sun,  and  by  the  revolution  of  the  starry 
heavens  around  the  fixed  pole-star.  A  wanderer  in 
a  trackless  desert  with  no  guides  but  these,  no  wonder 
that  the  primitive  savage  took  constant  note  of  their 
bearings,  and  as  he  grew  in  wisdom,  was  governed 
by  them  in  his  weightiest  understandings.  This  we 
see,  the  world  over,  in  the  religions,  arts,  the  social 
life,  and  the  forms  of  government  of  men.  Long 
after  man  emerged  from  the  condition  of  savagery 
their  influence  remained.  The  ancient  monarchies  of 
Egypt,  Syria,  China,  Mesopotamia  in  the  Old  World, 
and  in  the  New  those  of  Peru,  Araucania,  the  Muys- 
cas,  the  Tlascalans,  and  others  were  organized  in  the 
form  of  tetrarchies,  divided  in  accordance  with,  and 
in  some  instances  the  divisions  named  after,  the  car 
dinal  points.  Their  chief  cities  were  frequently 
quartered  by  streets  running  north,  south,  east,  and 
west.  The  chief  officers  of  the  government  being 
four  in  number,  the  whole  social  organization  as 
sumed  quadruplicate  form.  The  official  title  of  the 
Inca  of  Peru  and  of  the  Emperor  of  China  was 
*  lord  of  the  four  quarters  of  the  earth,'  the  terrestrial 
plane  being  conceived  as  a  vast  level  with  four  sides 
and  four  corners."  l 

So  the  fourfold  relation  of  the  human  body  to  the 

universe  seems  to  be  a  reasonable  explanation  of 

this  numerical  symbol.    The  emblematic  use  of  the 

figure  is  so  widespread,  and  so  completely  transcends 

1  Iconographic  Encyclopedia,  vol.  i,  p.  113. 


RELIGION 


the  employment  of  all  other  numerals  in  primitive 
life,  that  the  question  of  chance  or  coincidence  can 
hardly  be  entertained. 

Wherever  the  American  has  lived,  numberless  de 
signs,  constructed  on  a  quadrangular  plan,  have  been 
found.  The  figure  called  the  swastika  has  attracted 
an  unusual  amount  of  attention  and  comment.  This 
is  a  symbol  that,  in  modified  form,  may  appear  as  an 
ordinary  cross,  a  maltese  cross,  or  as  other  figures; 
but  the  one  requisite  seems  to  be  that  from  the  cen 
tre  shall  reach  outward,  equal  distances  from  one 
another,  four  arms.  The  arms  may  be  bent  as  elbows 
or  half-circles,  or  have  various  ornaments  attached 
to  them  or  scattered  about  among  them.  The  popular 
conception,  however,  is  a  cross,  the  four  arms  of 
which  are  of  equal  length,  and  are  bent  back  at 
right  angles  all  in  the  same  relative  direction.  Some 
writers  have  tried  to  locate  the  place  of  origin  of  the 
American  aborigines  by  tracing  similarities  between 
this  design  and  those  of  various  nations  of  Europe 
and  Asia.  The  resemblances,  however,  appear  coinci 
dental,  and  probably  grow  out  of  the  fact,  already 
pointed  out,  that  the  recognition  and  adoration  of 
the  four  cardinal  points  have  been  world-wide. 

Missionaries,  who  have  gone  among  the  aborigines, 
have  often  been  delighted  with  the  manner  in  which 
the  barbarians  have  kindly  taken  to  the  cross  when 
presented  to  them.  Many  beautiful  theories  have 
been  advanced  in  explanation  of  that  fact.  The 
interest  on  the  part  of  the  aborigines  doubtless  lay 


200  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

simply  in  the  approval  of  a  four-pointed  figure,  with 
which  they  had  been  familiar,  and  to  which  they  had 
paid  homage,  time  out  of  mind. 

The  number  is  observable  in  many  of  their  more 
savage  ceremonies.  The  Aztecs  celebrated  their  chief 
festival  four  times  a  year,  and  four  priests  solemnized 
its  rites.  "  They  commenced,"  says  Brinton,  "  by 
invoking  and  offering  incense  to  the  sky  and  the 
four  cardinal  points;  they  conducted  the  human  vic 
tim  four  times  around  the  temple,  then  tore  out  his 
heart,  and,  catching  the  blood  in  four  vases,  scattered 
it  in  the  same  directions."  1 

It  is  almost  needless  to  state  that  a  number  so 
significant  in  primitive  life  has  predominated  in  the 
land  of  the  Pueblos.  It  would  be  a  numeral  of  mate 
rial  value  to  them  because  they  are  included  in  the 
great  family  of  primitive  men ;  but  the  number  is  of 
special  consideration  with  them  because  they  feel  so 
keenly  their  dependence  upon  the  forces  of  nature. 
The  winds  that  blow  from  the  four  corners  of  the 
earth  bring  showers  which  water  the  fields  and  pro 
duce  the  crops.  Indeed,  it  may  be  said  in  general 
that  the  reverence  paid  to  the  four  cardinal  points 
doubtless  arises  from  the  fact  that  the  winds  come 
from  four  directions.  The  savage,  as  we  have  no 
ticed,  is  deeply  impressed  with  moving  objects.  The 
sun,  the  moon,  the  clouds,  the  waters,  the  winds,  stir; 
hence  they  must  be  alive.  They  must  contain  a  spirit. 
The  winds  particularly  impress  him.  They  are  close 
1  The  Myths  of  the  New  World,  pp.  89,  90. 


RELIGION  201 

at  hand.  He  feels  them.  He  hears  them  whistle  and 
roar.  They  destroy  many  objects  he  cherishes.  They 
bring  clouds,  and  rain,  and  whirlwinds,  and  thunder, 
and  dreaded  lightning.  So  he  closely  associates  the 
wind  with  the  direction  from  which  it  comes.  In  fact 
it  is  said  that  among  many  tribes  there  is  but  one 
word  for  the  cardinal  point  and  the  wind  coming 
from  the  direction  of  it. 

Other  numbers  are  also  sacred  among  the  Ameri 
can  aborigines.  The  number  seven  is  sacred  among 
the  Zufiis,  and  is  derived  from  the  contemplation  of 
man's  relation  to  seven  important  points  in  the  uni 
verse  ;  namely,  the  point  at  which  he  stands,  the  four 
cardinal  points,  the  zenith,  and  the  nadir.  Back  in 
early  Spanish-American  history,  this  group  of  In 
dians  became  known  as  occupants  of  the  "  Seven 
Cities  of  Cibola,"  on  account  of  their  living  or 
having  lived,  in  seven  adobe  villages  standing  not 
far  from  one  another  on  the  western  border  of  New 
Mexico.  Many  of  their  myths  and  sociological  sys 
tems  are  founded  on  this  numeral  or  multiples  of  it. 
There  are,  or  at  least,  have  been,  nineteen  clans  or 
gens  among  them  which  have  been  arranged  to  fit 
this  number.  Placing  three  clans  in  a  group,  six 
divisions  are  formed,  one  for  the  north,  south,  east, 
west,  zenith,  and  nadir  respectively,  and  a  single  clan 
for  the  centre.  Each  clan  is  assigned  to  that  par 
ticular  division,  and  each  division  to  that  particular 
region,  real  or  imaginary,  which  its  totemic  name 
suggests  as  most  appropriate.  For  example,  the  toad 


202  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

clan,  the  water  clan,  and  the  rattlesnake  clan  very 
fittingly  form  the  group  for  the  lower  world,  or 
nadir,  because  we  associate  these  with  things  at  or 
beneath  our  feet ;  while  the  sun  clan,  the  sky  clan,  and 
the  eagle  clan  form  a  triad  for  the  zenith,  or  upper 
region  of  air,  with  which  quarter  we  are  accustomed 
to  associate  them. 

The  people  of  this  pueblo  also  assign  to  each  of 
these  realms  what  they  consider  a  characteristic  color. 
That  for  the  north  is  yellow,  like  the  morning  light 
of  Hyperborean  winter;  that  for  the  east  white,  like 
the  approach  of  dawn;  that  for  the  south  red,  like 
the  landscape  of  fiery  summer ;  that  to  the  west  blue, 
like  the  great  Pacific  far  out  beyond  them;  that 
above  variegated,  like  sunlight  scattered  among 
the  clouds;  that  below  black,  like  the  darkness 
of  caves;  and  that  in  the  centre  patchwork,  or 
mosaic,  including  all. 

Among  the  Mokis  four  is  the  predominating  num 
ber  symbol,  but  six,  referring  to  the  four  points  of 
the  compass,  the  zenith,  and  nadir,  is  conspicuous 
in  their  ceremonials.  "  Four  and  seven  are  sacred 
numbers  among  the  Cherokees."  1 

1  Starr:  American  Indians,  p.  84. 


CHAPTER    IX 

DANCES   AND   FESTIVALS 

THE  dance  is  in  many  respects  the  most 
noted  institution  of  primitive  people.  It 
is  their  church  and  theatre  —  one  may 
almost  add,  their  hospital  and  military  academy.  It 
is  a  prayer  and  a  drama  at  the  same  time.  To  the 
civilized,  it  may  appear  rational  or  foolish,  interest 
ing  or  dull,  beautiful  or  vulgar;  but  to  people  in 
the  lower  stages  of  culture  it  is  full  of  meaning. 
It  may  be  a  representation  of  the  various  plays,  move 
ments,  and  tricks  of  wild  animals,  the  progress  and 
vicissitudes  of  love,  the  exciting  scenes  of  the  chase, 
or  the  tragedies  of  war.  "  Thus  among  the  Mandan 
Indians,"  says  Tylor,  "  when  the  hunters  failed  to 
find  the  buffalos  on  which  the  tribe  depended  for 
food,  every  man  brought  out  of  his  lodge  the  mask 
made  of  a  buffalo's  head  and  horns,  with  the  tail 
hanging  down  behind,  which  he  kept  for  such  an 
emergency,  and  they  all  set  to  dance  buffalo.  Ten 
or  fifteen  masked  dancers  at  a  time  formed  the  ring, 
drumming  and  rattling,  chanting  and  yelling;  when 
one  was  tired  out  he  went  through  the  pantomime  of 
being  shot  with  bow  and  arrow,  skinned,  and  cut 
up ;  while  another,  who  stood  ready  with  his  buffalo- 
head  on,  took  his  place  in  the  dance.  So  it  would  go 

203 


204  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

on,  without  stopping  day  or  night,  sometimes  for 
two  or  three  weeks,  till  at  last  these  persevering 
efforts  to  bring  the  buffalo  succeeded,  and  a  herd 
came  in  sight  on  the  prairie."  1 

Among  the  Pueblos  dancing  holds  an  exceedingly 
important  place.  One  may  trace  in  certain  perform-' 
ances  something  akin  to  rude  mystery  play.  Con 
flicts  between  light  and  darkness,  cold  and  heat,  seem 
to  be  represented.  Benefactors  and  malefactors  of 
earth  and  skies  meet  in  fierce  combats;  and,  after  a 
series  of  struggles,  one  side  or  the  other  comes  off 
victorious.  It  requires  no  great  effort  of  the  imagina 
tion  to  find  in  these  representations  the  rudiments  of 
an  Iliad,  though  of  course  wanting  in  everything 
approaching  Homeric  embellishment. 

Some  sort  of  music  accompanies  the  dance.  Melo 
dies  and  harmonies  among  the  Pueblos  have  never 
reached  a  high  stage  of  development.  These  Indians 
have  not  devised  any  complicated  instruments,  not 
even  from  the  suggestive  twang  of  the  bowstring, 
which  Tylor 2  (with  due  reverence  from  us  to 
Thomas  Moore)  claims  to  be  the  origin  of  the  harp. 
Their  music-producing  instruments  have  been  con 
fined  to  such  productions  as  the  rattling  gourd,  the 
tortoise  shell  with  pendant  deer  toes,  or  the  tompe,  a 
rude  monotonous  sort  of  drum.  These  are  usually 
accompanied  with  singing.  As  a  vocalist  the  Indian 
is  at  his  best  when  he  dances.  Those  well  acquainted 

1  Anthropology,  p.  297. 

2  Id.,  p.  294. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  205 

with  the  Pueblos  bear  witness  that,  while  there  are 
many  songs  among  them,  there  is  but  little  singing 
except  at  ceremonies. 

The  songs  are  monotonous,  but  more  or  less 
rhythmical.  There  is  only  one  part  to  each.  The 
Indian  has  not  been  trained  to  chords  and  harmonies. 
He  cannot  comprehend  the  music  of  an  orchestra. 
To  him  the  strains  and  accompaniments  of  the 
numerous  instruments  are  only  jargon.  He  sings  to 
no  definite  pitch.  He  merges  one  note  into  the  next, 
so  that  his  singing  seems  a  sort  of  slipping  from 
syllable  to  syllable.  There  is  a  kind  of  discordant 
rhythmic  swing  to  the  performance,  crude  indeed,  but 
weird  enough  to  be  fascinating.  In  fact  it  is  often 
more  than  that.  In  many  of  the  festivals,  there  are 
chants,  which,  accompanied  by  certain  motions  of 
the  head,  arms,  or  whole  body,  and  the  purport  of 
which  being  known,  are  truly  solemn  and  reveren 
tial. 

The  Pueblos  have  many  dances.  There  is  not  a 
month,  hardly  a  week,  during  the  whole  year  when 
a  festival  is  not  held  at  one  or  more  of  the  villages. 
The  names,  as  they  are  known  to  the  English-speak 
ing  people,  indicate  somewhat  their  nature,  or  at 
least  hint  at  what  the  performers  may  have  in  mind 
when  the  ceremonial  is  in  progress.  Corn  dances, 
turkey  dances,  snake  dances,  and  sun  dances  suggest 
what  each  represents. 

Among  the  various  ceremonials  of  the  Southwest, 
there  is  one  which  has  attracted  unusual  attention. 


206  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

It  has  enlisted  the  thought  and  study  of  some  of  the 
brightest  minds  in  the  ethnological  field.  It  is  a  rite 
worthy  of  extended  consideration,  and  it  cannot  be 
duly  comprehended  without  more  or  less  acquaint 
ance  with  the  environmental  relations. 

Of  all  the  Pueblos  the  Mokis  have  been  least 
influenced  by  civilization.  They  live  in  northeastern 
Arizona,  on  a  section  of  country  called  the  province 
of  Tusayan,  remarkable  for  heat  and  drouth,  even 
in  a  land  of  sterility.  On  all  sides  there  is  so  wide 
spread  desolation  that  this  physical  condition  alone 
would  tend  to  keep  off  friends  or  foes.  The  natives 
with  comparative  ease,  warded  off  Spanish  rule. 
Even  civilized  American  customs  have  not  yet 
seriously  encroached  upon  their  long-continued  prac 
tices.  White  priests  succeeded  in  gaining  but  a  slight 
hold  upon  them,  hence  their  religion  has  been 
practically  unmolested. 

The  people  live  in  villages  built  upon  three  rocky 
mesas,  rising  above  the  surrounding  country  to  the 
height  of  seven  or  eight  hundred  feet,  and  extending 
in  a  southwesterly  direction.  From  an  extended 
table-land  at  the  north,  these  spurs  reach  out  not 
unlike  huge  stone  fingers,  or  peninsulas  partly  buried 
in  an  ocean  of  sand.  Two  of  them  are  about  three 
miles  in  length,  while  the  one  farthest  west  is  some 
what  shorter.  The  middle  mesa  lies  about  half-way 
between  the  other  two,  and  in  a  direct  line  is  about 
seven  miles  from  each.  Following  the  trails,  however, 
makes  the  distances  much  greater. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  207 

The  villages  on  the  eastern  mesa  are  three  in  num 
ber,  and  are  named  Tewa,  Sichumnavi,  and  Walpi 
respectively.  Those  on  the  middle  mesa  are  also 
three  in  number,  and  are  called  Mishongnavi,  Ship- 
aulavi,  and  Shimopavi.  There  is  but  one  on  the 
western  mesa,  and  this  is  called  Oraibi.  The  popu 
lation  of  the  last  named,  however,  is  much  larger 
than  that  of  any  of  the  others,  and  has  been  so  ever 
since  anything  definite  has  been  known  about  these 
people.  The  total  number  of  inhabitants  of  the 
villages  has  varied  considerably  since  first  heard  of, 
but  during  the  last  forty  years  has  remained  about 
two  thousand. 

The  tops  of  the  mesas  are  comparatively  flat,  and 
vary  much  in  width.  At  the  point  on  which  Walpi 
stands,  the  distance  across  is  about  two  hundred  feet, 
and  a  little  farther  north  it  tapers  down  to  about 
eight.  In  other  places  directly  across  each  mesa  the 
width  varies  from  one  hundred  to  several  hundred 
feet. 

From  the  villages  a  person  can  look  for  forty  or 
fifty  miles  out  into  a  region  of  waste  which  is  relieved 
here  and  there  only  by  little  patches  of  cottonwood 
or  juniper.  The  small  amount  of  accessible  wood  and 
water  is  more  valuable  to  them  than  a  gold  mine. 
Both  of  these  necessaries  of  life  are  obtained  only 
by  long  journeys.  Here  and  there,  wherever  they 
find  areas  of  land,  never  so  small  but  presenting  the 
appearance  of  moisture  at  the  surface,  they  attempt 
to  raise  crops.  Out  into  the  open  country  they  drive 


208  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

their  flocks  each  day  to  hunt  stray  bits  of  food,  and 
back  they  drive  them  at  night  into  the  corrals,  built 
in  the  recesses  of  the  rocks  of  the  mesas  on  which 
the  villages  stand. 

One  can  hardly  imagine  what  a  failure  of  the 
even  scanty  annual  supply  of  rain  means  to  these 
people.  They  are  constantly  in  dread  of  shortage. 
The  thought  hangs  over  them,  and  influences  their 
daily  life  to  an  extraordinary  degree.  Their  experi 
ences  have  taught  them  that  lack  of  rain  means 
suffering  to  all  and  death  to  many.  "  In  September, 
1780,  Governor  Anza  gave  the  Moqui  population 
as  798.  No  rain  had  fallen  for  three  years,  and  in 
that  time  the  Moqui  deaths  were  given  at  6,698."  1 

The  Mokis  evidently  have  been  always  an  agri 
cultural  people.  Game  could  never  have  been  plenti 
ful  in  their  country.  The  few  rabbits  that  abound 
could  be  at  best  but  a  small  contribution  to  the  food 
supply.  The  sterility  of  the  land  would  necessitate 
a  continual  scarcity  of  the  larger  wild  animals.  The 
problem  then,  constantly  before  the  inhabitants,  has 
been  how  and  where  to  get  enough  from  these  unin 
viting  lands  for  subsistence.  They  have  had  practi 
cally  but  this  one  source  of  supply.  They  have  realized 
that  capricious  nature  has  often  dealt  harshly  with 
them,  and  is  likely  to  do  so  again. 

Their  dependence  almost  solely  upon  the  vegetable 
kingdom  has  forced  them  to  become  acquainted  with 
every  herb  and  bush  growing  within  a  radius  of 

Donaldson:  Pueblo  Indians.  Extra  Census  Bulletin,  p.  15. 


DANCES    AND   FESTIVALS          209 

scores  of  miles.  The  rainfall  here  per  annum  is  less 
than  ten  inches  —  lighter  than  that  of  many  a  single 
storm  in  other  parts  of  the  western  continent.  Winds 
are  heavy,  and  often  the  flying  sand  cuts  the  plants 
into  shreds,  compelling  the  rude  farmer  to  erect 
wind-breaks.  Frosts  begin  to  come  in  September, 
and  linger  late  in  the  spring.  The  general  elevation 
of  the  country  is  about  six  thousand  feet,  hence  the 
nights  are  cool  on  account  of  easy  radiation.  Corn 
does  not  mature  till  far  into  the  fall.  Scarcity  of  food 
makes  the  people  provident.  They  store  up  their 
grain  for  time  of  need.  Before  the  whites  came  they 
cultivated  corn,  beans,  squashes,  and  cotton.  Civil 
ized  man  has  introduced  for  their  benefit  wheat  and 
certain  fruits.  They  walk  two  hundred  miles  for 
salt.  Some  one  tells  of  a  Moki  who  traveled  four 
hundred  miles  to  get  a  certain  bark  of  a  tree  to  use 
for  dyeing  his  moccasins.  They  go  far  away  over 
to  the  San  Francisco  mountains  for  pine  boughs. 
They  gather  the  wild  tobacco  that  grows  out  along 
the  Little  Colorado  River. 

Walter  Hough  l  furnishes  some  valuable  informa 
tion  regarding  the  various  uses  of  plants  among  these 
people.  The  list  gives  us  a  hint  as  to  their  familiarity 
with  the  scanty  but  all  important  vegetable  world  of 
northeastern  Arizona,  and  how  they  utilize  to  the 
utmost  \vhatever  of  worth  the  lands  produce. 

There  are  in  this  region  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  species  of  indigenous  plants,  of  which  one  hun- 

1  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  x,  p.  33,  et  seq. 


210  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

dred  and  forty  at  least  are  pressed  into  service. 
Thirty-five  of  these  plants  they  use  wholly  or  in  part 
as  foods,  pure  and  simple,  such  as  berries,  fruits, 
roots,  leaves,  stems,  flowers,  juices,  and  so  on.  Four 
are  common  in  house-building,  such  as  heavy  wood 
for  rafters,  and  certain  grasses  for  roofs.  Nine  are 
used  for  dress  and  decoration,  such  as  seeds  for 
beads,  and  ornamental  plants  for  the  hair.  Nine  are 
for  domestic  purposes,  such  as  firewood  and  snow- 
brooms  ;  and  others  supply  special  and  unusual  needs, 
such  as  yucca  for  soap,  hops  for  yeast,  gourds  for 
dippers  and  funnels,  and  sticky  leaves  for  catching 
flies.  Fifteen  are  appropriated  to  the  arts,  furnishing 
as  they  do  splints  for  baskets,  juices  for  stains,  and 
gums  for  cements.  Twelve  are  put  to  use  in  the  field 
of  agriculture  and  forage,  including  grass  for 
animals,  brush  for  wind-breaks,  sandsheds,  and  so  on. 
Twenty-nine  enter  into  the  list  of  medicines,  such  as 
are  supposed  to  furnish  relief  or  cures  for  headaches, 
fevers,  skin  diseases,  rheumatism,  snake-bites  and 
other  poisons.  Parts  of  various  plants  are  ground 
to  powder  and  made  into  plasters ;  others  are  soaked 
and  boiled  and  the  liquid  drunk,  as  in  cases  of 
emetics;  others  are  bound  upon  the  person,  as  in 
cases  of  wounds  and  sprains.  Eighteen  are  set  aside 
for  religious  ceremonials,  and  are  used  as  prayer- 
sticks  and  plumes,  or  are  ground  up  for  sacred  meal 
or  powders.  Some  are  considered  consecrated  plants, 
and  are  burned  or  smoked  when  dances  are  in  prog 
ress.  Ten  are  on  the  folk-lore  list  and  include  the 


DANCES   AND   FESTIVALS          211 

class  of  plants  adopted  as  clan  names,  and  also  those 
supposed  to  cause  sleep,  produce  charms,  and  bring 
about  good  luck.  A  few  with  some  peculiarities,  for 
instance  snapping-pods,  are  used  in  children's  games 
and  amusements.  Many  are  turned  to  account  in 
various  other  ways,  aside  from  the  primary  use  just 
mentioned.  Thus  the  necessities  of  their  hard  con 
ditions — stinted  as  they  are  in  the  supply  of  vegeta 
tion,  as  in  many  other  things — force  them  to  become 
adepts  in  the  science  of  plant-life.  "  It  is  a  greater 
credit,"  says  Glanville,  "  to  know  the  ways  of  capti 
vating  Nature  and  making  her  subserve  our  purposes, 
than  to  have  learned  all  the  intrigues  of  policy." 

The  Mokis  are  a  notably  religious,  or  more  strictly, 
a  superstitious  people,  even  in  this  land  of  supersti 
tion.  Their  precarious  life  encourages  this.  Their 
several  dances  through  the  year  are  generally  of  a 
religious  nature. 

The  August  festival,  which  usually  takes  place 
somewhere  between  the  fifteenth  and  the  twenty- 
fifth  of  that  month,  is,  on  the  whole,  the  most  noted 
ceremonial,  not  only  of  the  Mokis  but  of  all  the 
people  of  the  country  of  the  Southwest.  The  rites  are 
by  far  the  most  elaborate  of  their  kind ;  and  it  is  for 
tunate  that  close  observers,  careful  students  of 
science,  and  talented  writers  like  Voth,  Fewkes, 
Mindeleff,  Bourke,  Baxter,  Dorsey,  Lummis,  Scott, 
and  Matthews  have  given  to  the  world  so  much 
valuable  information  on  the  subject,  through  their 
faithful  reports  and  conservative  comments. 


212  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Snake  ceremonials  are  held  at  five  of  the  seven 
villages.  Each  holds  a  dance  of  this  kind  biennially, 
hence  two  come  on  even  and  three  on  odd  years. 
Those  of  the  even  years  are  held  at  Oraibi  and 
Sichumnavi,  those  of  the  odd  at  Walpi,  Mishongnavi, 
and  Shipaulavi.  The  complete  performance  lasts 
some  eight,  nine,  twelve,  sixteen,  or  twenty  days, 
perhaps  generally  speaking  twelve.  The  time  for 
beginning  the  rites  is  determined  by  a  body  of  priests 
who,  for  several  days  have  been  watching  the  sun  as 
it  has  been  moving  southward  along  the  horizon, 
and  taking  note  of  the  length  of  the  shadows  thrown 
upon  some  specified  object. 

The  preliminaries  open  with  a  meeting  of  the 
priests  in  the  kiva,  where  first  the  pipe  is  passed 
around  and  clouds  of  smoke  blown  into  the  air 
toward  the  four  cardinal  points.  After  certain  other 
invocations,  the  business  at  hand  is  discussed,  the 
time  for  the  beginning  of  the  ceremonial  is  agreed 
upon,  and  a  crier  is  instructed  to  announce  the 
decision  from  the  house-top  on  the  following  morn 
ing  at  sunrise.  The  one  thus  instructed  remains  up 
all  night,  or  rises  at  the  break  of  dawn,  passes  out 
into  the  field,  sprinkles  meal  and  drops  prayer-plumes 
at  certain  secluded  spots  and  along  the  pathways. 
The  prayer-sticks  are  called  bahos.  They  are  peg- 
like  pieces  of  wood,  two  or  three  inches  in  length, 
and  a  half-inch  or  such  a  matter  in  thickness,  with 
feathers  tied  to  the  upper  or  blunt  end  of  them.  The 
herald,  on  his  return,  goes  to  the  roof,  and,  when  the 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS          213 

disk  of  the  sun  is  completely  above  the  horizon,  loudly 
proclaims  the  coming  event.  Runners  are  sent  out 
from  the  village  a  half-dozen  miles  toward  the  four 
points  of  the  compass,  to  deposit  prayer-sticks  at 
shrines.  Day  by  day  for  four  days,  these  fetiches  are 
brought  nearer  and  nearer  and  finally  deposited  at  the 
foot  of  the  mesa.  This  performance  indicates  the 
manner  in  which  the  showers  come  from  the  different 
quarters  of  the  heavens. 

For  four  days  parties  of  a  certain  secret  order, 
presumably  those  of  the  Snake  clan,  go  out  over  the 
plains  gathering  serpents  into  long  buckskin  bags. 
They  look  about  in  warm  secluded  spots  to  find  the 
reptiles  basking  in  the  sun.  They  poke  sticks  into 
holes  in  the  ground  where  they  often  take  refuge. 
They  examine  the  soft  sands  for  fresh  trails.  They 
inspect  the  bunches  of  grease-wood  and  cacti,  the 
shadows  of  which  are  so  much  sought  by  the 
smaller  animals  of  the  plain.  When  a  snake  is  found, 
the  hunter  waves  a  feather  wand  over  it.  The  result 
is  that  the  reptile  is  disturbed  for  a  moment.  If  a 
rattlesnake,  it  coils  itself  into  a  striking  attitude  but 
soon  tries  to  escape.  When  attempting  to  crawl  away, 
it  is  caught  around  the  neck  and  dexterously  de 
posited  in  the  bag.  In  their  search,  the  parties  go  out 
in  the  direction  of  a  different  cardinal  point  on  each 
of  the  four  days.  Whenever  they  come  to  the  few 
outlying  springs,  they  plant  near  the  water  more 
bahos,  as  symbols  of  prayer  to  the  divinities  to  keep 
the  springs  from  drying  up.  The  number  of  serpents 


214  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

that  they  are  able  to  catch  during  this  time  varies 
from  about  forty  to  a  hundred  or  more,  a  half  of 
which  generally  are  rattlesnakes.  The  others  are 
mostly  bull-snakes  and  racers.  "  In  the  1891  dance 
over  one  hundred  snakes  were  used.  Of  these  about 
sixty-five  were  rattlesnakes."  l  When  the  work  of 
the  day  is  over  the  reptile-hunters  meet  at  an 
appointed  spot  some  distance  from  the  village  and 
speed  back  in  single  file  with  their  unattractive  loads 
of  coiled  flesh,  which  they  finally  turn  over  to  the 
attendants  of  the  kiva.  The  kivas,  or  es tufas,  as  they 
are  more  frequently  called  in  other  pueblos,  are  the 
wholly  or  partially  underground  ceremonial  chambers, 
of  which  every  village  has  from  one  to  a  dozen  or 
more. 

The  next  observance,  which  lasts  for  four  days, 
is  the  erection  of  the  Antelope  altar  and  the  cere 
monials  within  the  kiva.  The  two  organizations 
having  the  dance  in  charge  are  the  Antelope  and  the 
Snake  orders,  two  strictly  secret  societies  whose 
doings  are  known  only  to  the  initiated.  A  few  men 
of  the  Caucasian  race,  however,  by  initiation  and 
other  artifices,  have  succeeded  in  witnessing  these 
doings.  While  the  ceremonies  themselves  are  known 
only  to  the  select  few,  the  Antelope  altars,  of  which 
there  is  but  one  erected  at  each  village,  are  left  from 
day  to  day  as  erected  and  are  sometimes  not  over 
carefully  guarded;  hence,  with  prudence  on  the  part 
of  the  intruder,  they  may  frequently  be  seen.  In  fact 
is:  Some  Strange  Corners  of  Our  Country,  p.  54. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  215 

drawings  and  photographs  of  many  of  them  have 
been  obtained. 

The  Antelope  altar  is  erected  on  the  floor  in  the 
Antelope  kiva.  A  square  space,  measuring  about  four 
feet  across,  is  covered  with  white  sand.  The  border  is 
composed  of  four  bands  of  sands,  colored  respectively 
yellow,  green,  red,  and  white.  These  are  separated 
by  narrow  lines  of  black.  At  one  side  of  the  square 
within  the  border  are  four  rows  of  partially  circular 
figures  of  sand,  each  of  the  rows  having  a  different 
color  and  all  arranged  to  correspond  in  sequence  with 
the  four  colors  on  the  border.  The  first  row  contains 
four  semicircles,  the  four  straight  edges  of  which 
lie  along  one  of  the  four  sides  of  the  border.  The 
figures  are  made  just  large  enough  to  fill  the  space 
along  this  one  side.  The  second  row  consists  of  three 
semicircles  with  a  quadrant  at  each  end.  Two  more 
rows  like  the  ones  already  constructed,  except  as  to 
color,  complete  the  pattern,  which,  when  finished, 
forms  a  pleasing  array  of  orderly  pelecoid  figures. 
Within  the  remaining  space,  four  zig-zag  lines  two  or 
three  inches  in  width,  each  bearing  one  of  the  colors 
already  mentioned,  run  two-thirds  of  the  way  across 
the  field  out  from  the  four  rows  of  colored  figures 
already  described  and  directly  perpendicular  to  them. 
The  projecting  end  of  each  zig-zag  consists  of  a 
head-like  triangle  with  two  spots  resembling  eyes, 
also  a  sort  of  spike,  or  horn,  reaching  out  to  one  side, 
with  a  representation  of  a  band  or  a  series  of  them 
running  around  the  neck.  Outside  the  border  directly 


THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 


across  from  where  the  semicircles  are,  projects  a  row 
of  short,  black,  thickly  drawn,  perpendicular  lines. 

One  needs  hardly  be  told  that  the  rows  of  semi 
circular  figures  symbolize  clouds,  the  zig-zags  light 
ning,  and  the  black  lines  rain. 

Along  two  sides  of  the  square  are  rows  of  perhaps 
eight  or  twelve  sticks,  each  of  which  is  about  a  foot 
in  length.  Each  is  made  to  stand  by  having  one  end 
pressed  into  a  small  clay  pedestal.  Sometimes  the 
wood  is  painted  with  the  colors  already  noticed. 
Sometimes  all,  or  several  of  these,  are  straight;  at 
other  times  the  upper  ends  are  bent  over  into  a  half- 
circle.  Fewkes,  who  has  made  a  careful  study  of 
these  altars  and  to  whom  the  public  is  much  indebted 
for  valuable  information  regarding  them,  says  :  "  The 
straight  sticks  probably  represent  arrows,  and  possi 
bly,  when  curved  at  the  end,  primitive  implements 
of  war,  allied  to  bows,  for  the  propulsion  of  arrow- 
like  weapons."  1 

In  a  jar  back  of  the  altar,  may  stand  a  cornstalk, 
entwined  with  gourd  vines.  Sometimes  four  gourds 
enclosed  in  loose  network  are  placed  along  another 
side  of  the  altar,  with  ears  of  corn  scattered  among 
them.  Often  four,  eight,  or  twelve  baskets,  plaques, 
trays,  or  jars,  are  ranged  along  the  outside  of  the 
square.  Near  one  corner  stands  the  sacred  medicine 
bowl,  decorated  with  figures  of  frogs,  snakes,  tad 
poles,  and  numerous  other  water  and  rain  symbols. 

1  Nineteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
p.  968. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  217 

Sometimes  meal  is  scattered  about  so  as  to  form 
various  designs  about  the  altar.  At  other  times 
baskets  with  prayer-sticks  are  placed  here  and  there. 
Again,  parts  of  the  costumes  of  the  dancers  may  be 
seen  mingled  with  other  paraphernalia  in  the  back 
ground.  In  fact  the  details  are  noticeably  different, 
varying  not  only  in  the  several  villages,  but  varying 
at  the  same  pueblo  from  year  to  year,  as  has  already 
been  remarked ;  but,  the  essentials,  such  as  the  sand 
and  sand  figures,  the  colors,  and  the  conspicuity  of 
the  number  four  and  its  multiples,  are  apparently 
indispensable. 

The  ninth  day  is  the  climax  of  the  ceremonial. 
Before  daybreak  there  are  observances  in  the  kivas. 
Traditional  songs  are  rendered  by  the  Antelope 
priests,  and  trays  of  bahos  are  consecrated. 

Soon  after  daylight,  groups  of  Indians  may  be 
seen  coming  out  of  the  hatchways  and  down  the 
ladders  leading  from  their  strange  homes,  and  seat 
ing  themselves  on  the  rocks  overlooking  the  corn 
fields,  which  lie  far  out  on  the  plains.  At  sunrise, 
there  is  to  be  the  four-mile  race  among  the  Antelope 
men,  who  have  already  gone  from  the  ceremonies 
within  the  kiva  directly  down  to  the  fields.  A  person 
with  sharp  eyes  can  just  discern,  out  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  small  patches  of  green  corn  lands,  fifteen  or 
twenty  moving  objects,  mere  specks,  which  gradually 
draw  together  in  a  line.  As  these  dusky-brown 
runners  begin  the  race,  the  fact  is  made  known  by 
a  sort  of  cheer  from  the  forms  muffled  in  blankets 


MS          IMF.    AMEKAN    INDIAN 

M  dtt  WOMCIMV  wck'  In  abort  filwtn  minutes 

1    Each  carries  in 

i%  o!  com  whkh  he  has 

livlun  priests,  funding 

<m  tt*  •  •  » :  *****  ' 


!  of  younger 
d«*wn  from 


n  ,he  hands  of  the 

/     Wsnn«r  of  the  race 

,«,  to  the  cora  6dd.  sotters 

—i  iH»  6nt 


emooo,  there  are 
going 


on  in  the 


^  lheir  dim  chambers, 

howeter.  are  care- 

[metnberoftheot*rii 

c  hatchway.  A  ««***[ 

am!  forth  **••**! 
on  duty,  i«J 

e 


DANCES   A  XI   FESTIVA 
The  serpcntt.  when  bract*  from  ib* 


in  which  they  wr-r  ro  ouvfcc  t 

day  canterru  *  •*  *,  y*^^^ 

for  carrying  water    Thcr«!     m  43^^,^  M  jj^  M 

of  each  of  thr*r  A*  i  ,  |tlf    ^    , 

VCniCtKC     If:  ,     e^m     »JLim 

another  hole  u  r^ 
repfile*  (mm  cra» 


'  r>*«.  * 

takes  place  in  the  > 
with  tand  and  meal     i  >. 
memberi  of  the  «•?  i<r  ^-, 
camaiium  The  c 
uncorked    Bv  on 


to  cnwl  out  of  !•<  . 
then  laid  oo  the  r? 
together. 


which  have  been 
The 


ofthefourtlt     ^n* 
jects 


cross  is 

the  cardinal  pointv  ukj 
t  bowl  of  i 
.  and  ti» 
the  b^  to  the  I 


*y  nm  « 


220  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

much  squirming,  but  the  creatures  are  kept  within 
prescribed  limits  by  the  priests  who  use  their  snake- 
whips  freely.  Boys  are  employed  also  to  return  any 
strays.  Finally,  the  reptiles  are  gathered  into  a  bag 
to  be  used  in  the  public  ceremonial  later  in  the  after 
noon. 

The  snake-washing  is  to  indicate  bodily  purifica 
tion,  "  and  probably  sprang  from  a  belief  in  a  totemic 
relationship  between  reptiles  and  the  Snake  clan."  1 
One  of  the  members  takes  the  liquid  after  the 
ceremony  and  pours  it  out  in  different  directions, 
or  at  four  different  quarters  of  the  kiva,  in  recogni 
tion  of  the  cardinal  points.  The  bowls,  jars,  and 
other  accessories  that  have  been  used,  are  placed 
away  for  future  service. 

In  preparation  for  the  crowning  event,  a  space 
of  ground,  preferably  rock-floor,  comprising  a  few 
square  rods,  is  swept  clean.  At  one  side  of  this  is 
built  a  sort  of  bower  of  trees,  generally  cottonwood, 
of  eight  or  ten  feet  in  height,  with  tops  drawn  to 
gether  and  lower  ends  reaching  outward  so  as  to 
enclose  a  circular  space  of  five  or  six  feet  in  diameter. 
An  opening  about  two  feet  square  is  left  on  one  side 
of  the  covert,  and  before  this  is  hung  a  piece  of  hide 
or  cloth. 

In  front  of  the  bower  —  called  by  the  Indians  a 
klsi  —  a  hole  is  dug  into  the  ground,  and  over  this  is 
placed  a  board  which  produces  a  hollow  sound  when 

1Fewkes:  Nineteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of 
Ethnology,  p.  973- 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  221 

stepped  upon.  This  is  symbolic  of  the  entrance  to  the 
other  world ;  and  later,  when  the  dancers  stamp  upon 
it,  the  purpose  is  to  call  the  attention  of  their  brethren 
below  to  the  ceremonial  about  to  take  place. 

The  dance  begins  about  an  hour  before  sunset.  A 
bag  containing  the  serpents  has  already  been  carried 
to  the  bower,  and  placed  within. 

Everything  is  now  in  readiness  for  the  performers. 
These  comprise  the  members  of  the  two  orders 
already  referred  to,  viz.,  the  Antelope  and  the  Snake 
clans.  Each  may  vary  in  number  all  the  way  from 
ten  to  fifty.  The  usual  number  is  about  twenty.  The 
legend  of  the  dance  is  a  story  of  the  coming  of 
the  Mokis  to  their  present  home.  "  The  Antelope 
gens  were  the  first  to  arrive,  and  were  guided 
to  their  present  location  by  the  Snake  women.  The 
Snake  order  was  instituted  to  commemorate  this 
event."  *  The  dancers  are  carefully  arrayed  for  the 
occasion.  Both  orders  wear  kilts ;  and  from  the  waist 
behind  are  dependent  fox  or  coyote  skins,  reaching 
nearly  to  the  ground.  The  long  black  hair  of  the  per 
formers  hangs  loosely  about  their  faces  and  down 
their  backs,  and  is  more  or  less  ornamented  with 
feathers,  bright  pieces  of  twine,  and  other  gew-gaws. 
Their  feet  are  enclosed  in  moccasins.  They  wear 
thick  anklets  made  of  colored  worsted.  Each  dancer 
carries  around  his  neck  one  or  more  strings  of  beau 
tiful  and  valuable  beads  from  which  is  suspended 
generally,  a  handsome  haliotis  shell.  Painted  brace- 
1  Cosmos  Mindeleff :  Science,  vol.  vii,  p.  509. 


222  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

lets  of  bark  are  on  their  wrists.  Sometimes  armlets 
are  worn  just  above  the  elbows,  and  conspicuous 
bandoliers  are  suspended  from  the  shoulders. 

While  the  two  orders  use  many  articles  of  dress  in 
common,  there  is  a  great  difference  in  their  general 
make-up.  The  costume  colors  of  the  Antelopes  are 
much  brighter.  Their  kilts  are  likely  to  contain 
designs  of  a  flashy  nature,  while  those  of  the  Snake 
society  are  of  a  sombre  cast.  Their  bodies  also  are 
painted  red;  and  along  their  shoulders,  backs,  and 
arms,  run  zig-zag  stripes  of  white;  while  the  bodies 
of  the  Snake  order  are  usually  of  a  darker  color,  often 
even  black,  with  splashes  of  red  on  their  breasts  and 
backs.  The  faces  of  the  Snake  order  are  always 
painted  black,  with  white  from  the  roots  of  the  nose 
back  to  the  ears  and  downward  over  the  jaws  to  the 
neck.  Bound  to  the  right  leg  of  each  Antelope  man, 
is  a  rather  small  tortoise  shell,  to  which  are  attached 
antelope  hoofs,  which  make  a  clanking,  monotonous 
sound.  Each  man  of  this  order  also  carries  a  painted 
rattle,  consisting  of  a  short  cylinder-shaped  drum 
with  handle  attached  to  the  centre,  and  presenting, 
when  looked  upon  from  the  side,  the  shape  of  an 
Egyptian  cross.  This  rude  instrument  is  made  by 
stretching  a  piece  of  buckskin  over  two  disks,  kept 
some  distance  apart,  and  by  placing,  within  the  skin 
and  between  the  disks,  very  small  pebbles.  The  noise 
made  by  this  little  mechanical  device  is  very  similar 
to  the  hissing  of  the  rattlesnake.  The  Snake  men 
carry  in  their  hands  whips,  and  bags  of  sacred  meal. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  223 

The  leader  of  the  Snake  society  whirls  a  buzzing- 
stick  —  such  as  we  frequently  see  boys  using  —  con 
sisting  of  a  thin  flat  piece  of  wood,  an  inch  or  so  in 
width  and  a  foot  in  length,  attached  to  a  string,  by 
which  it  is  swung  over  the  head. 

The  Antelope  men  are  the  first  to  appear  within  the 
court.  They  march  four  times  around  in  a  circle,  and 
take  positions  alongside  the  kisi,  facing  outward  from 
it.  The  Snake  men  then  enter,  marching  in  the  same 
way  as  did  the  members  of  the  other  society,  and 
scatter  sacred  meal  near  the  bower.  Each  man,  as  he 
comes  along,  stamps  on  the  thick  board  already  de 
scribed.  As  has  been  noticed,  this  is  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  gods  to  the  zeal  and  faithfulness  of 
the  performers.  The  stamping,  like  the  detour,  is 
repeated  four  times.  The  Snake  men  then  form  in  a 
line  about  six  feet  from  the  Antelope  men  and  face 
them.  The  Antelope  men  lifting  and  dropping  their 
feet  in  perfect  time,  thus  producing  dull  blunt 
sounds  from  the  tortoise  shells  tied  to  their  legs, 
and  simultaneously  shaking  their  suggestive  hissing 
rattles ;  the  Snake  men  with  arms  linked  and  bodies 
swaying  this  way  and  that,  giving  utterance  to  low, 
deep  chants;  the  painted  decoration  and  strange 
garments  of  the  performers ;  the  time  of  day ;  the 
rhythm  and  cadence  of  the  barbaric  incantations ;  the 
curiosity,  expectancy,  and  half-dread  on  the  part  of 
the  motley  crowd  of  spectators;  the  unquestionable 
earnestness  and  sincerity  of  the  participants ;  the  rude, 
primitive  environments, —  all  combine  to  leave  an 


224  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

impression  on  the  mind  of  the  spectator  that  cannot 
fade  away. 

A  moment  later  the  Snake  men  have  broken  from 
their  line  and  formed  into  squads  of  three,  each  con 
sisting  of  a  dancer,  a  wand-carrier,  or  hugger,  and 
a  gatherer.  The  Antelope  men  still  remain  in  line. 
One  squad  after  another  marches  around  in  front 
of  the  kisi.  A  serpent  is  handed  by  the  keeper  to  a 
dancer,  who  has  previously  placed  meal  in  his  mouth. 
Seizing  the  reptile  he  takes  it  between  his  lips  a  few 
inches  back  of  the  head.  The  hugger  places  his  left 
arm  over  the  shoulder  of  the  dancer,  and,  with  his 
right,  waves  his  feather  wand  before  the  eyes  of  the 
snake  to  attract  its  attention  and  keep  it  from  burying 
its  poisonous  fangs  into  the  face  of  his  companion. 
The  two  pass  around  the  court  pursuing  the  same 
course  as  that  previously  taken  by  the  two  orders. 
The  gatherer  moves  along  near  by,  keeping  careful 
watch  in  order  to  pick  up  the  serpent  in  case  it  should 
wriggle  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  dancer.  Other 
squads  follow,  and  soon  there  is  a  line  of  these 
performers  moving  round  and  round,  the  snakes 
twisting  and  wriggling  and  throwing  their  heads 
about  in  the  air,  the  wands  rapidly  rotating  and 
gyrating,  the  various  shells  and  rattles  producing  a 
most  doleful  noise,  while  the  spectators  hold  their 
breath  in  suspense,  or,  when  gome  unusually  strange 
and  startling  thing  occurs,  give  vent  to  their  feelings 
with  exclamations  of  wonder  and  alarm.  When  the 
snake  becomes  ungovernable,  the  dancer  lets  it  drop 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  225 

from  his  mouth  upon  the  ground,  and  it  is  picked 
up  by  the  gatherer.  When  one  serpent  has  fallen  from 
the  mouth  of  the  dancer,  he  with  his  hugger  marches 
around  at  once  to  the  kisi  for  another.  This  is  con 
tinued  until  all  the  animals  are  carried.  The  gatherer, 
as  well  as  the  hugger,  carries  a  wand,  and,  if  the 
snake  which  has  been  dropped  to  the  ground  coils 
to  strike,  he  waves  the  wand  above  the  maddened 
creature  until  it  coils  to  run  away,  when  he  catches 
it  around  the  neck  and  carries  it  with  him.  The  gath 
erers  carry  bags  of  sacred  meal,  and  scatter  portions 
of  the  contents  upon  the  animals  before  seizing  them. 
When  the  performers  are  going  round  and  round 
with  their  strange  talismans,  the  Snake  women  stand 
just  outside  the  line  of  march  and  throw  sacred  meal 
on  each  as  he  passes.  As  the  serpents  accumulate  in 
the  hands  of  the  gatherer  so  that  he  cannot  con 
veniently  handle  them,  he  passes  them  over  to  the 
Antelope  men,  who  hold  them  during  the  remainder 
of  the  ceremony. 

The  final  act  of  this  strange  drama  occurs  a  little 
later,  when  the  chief  Snake  priest  draws  a  sacred 
meal-circle  some  four  or  five  feet  in  diameter  and, 
within  it,  six  radiating  lines  representing  the  four 
cardinal  points,  the  zenith,  and  the  nadir.  With  a  rush 
the  reptiles  are  piled  within  the  ring.  As  they  crawl 
and  squirm  about  within  the  enclosed  space,  they  form 
a  comparatively  level  heap  sometimes  several  inches  in 
height.  "  Such  a  wriggling,  hissing  mass  of  flesh," 
says  Baxter,  "  I  never  saw,  and  my  blood  turned 
is 


226  THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 

cold  as  I  watched  the  men  thrust  their  naked  arms 
into  the  heap  and  drag  out  as  many  snakes  as  their 
hands  would  hold,  rushing  with  them  out  of  the 
village  down  to  the  plains  below,  there  to  set  them 
free."  l 

These  ceremonies  have  lasted  for  a  half -hour  or 
more,  and  now  in  the  fading  twilight  the  dancers 
return  to  the  pueblo.  A  liquid  has  been  prepared  in 
a  half-dozen  large  bowls  and  placed  at  one  side  of 
the  Snake  kiva.  When  the  performers  return,  one  by 
one,  from  their  errands  of  carrying  away  the  ser 
pents,  they  stoop  down  on  their  hands  and  knees  and 
drink  of  this  strong  emetic.  The  result  is  violent 
vomiting;  and  this,  on  the  whole  is,  to  the  observer, 
the  most  disagreeable  feature  of  the  entire  ritual. 
It  is  a  process  of  purification,  and  possibly  an  antidote 
for  snake-bites. 

There  is  feasting  after  the  long  continuous  fast 
which  the  Snake  men  have  undergone,  dancing  and 
games  follow  for  a  few  days,  when  the  protracted 
ceremonial  comes  to  an  end. 

It  is  said  that  very  frequently  performers  are 
bitten ;  but  on  account  of  preparation  for  such  a  con 
tingency,  through  diet  and  antidote,  no  serious 
results  seem  to  follow.  Nothing  is  done  with  the 
snakes  to  make  them  less  dangerous  in  handling, 
such  as  giving  them  drugs  or  removing  the  fangs. 
"  During  the  dance  between  four  and  five  P.M.,  a 
rattlesnake  struck  one  of  the  dancers  on  the  right 
1  The  American  Antiquarian,  vol.  xvii,  p.  206. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  227 

ear  and  held  on.  The  Antelope  man  became 
frightened  and  ran  away.  The  dancer  becoming 
angry,  grabbed  the  snake,  which  was  a  large  one, 
tore  it  from  his  ear  and  threw  it  on  the  ground,  but 
the  bitten  ear  did  not  swell.  The  snake,  thus  released, 
coiled  and  struck  at  a  Navajo,  who  was  standing 
near  the  edge  of  the  mesa,  which  so  frightened  the 
man  that  he  drew  back  and  ran  off,  and  the  snake 
bounded  back  of  the  sacred  rock  and  got  among 
some  Indian  women,  who  were  mortally  afraid  and 
ran  away  in  fright;  then  he  escaped.  If  the  snake 
had  been  doctored,  and  was  not  venomous,  they 
would  not  have  been  afraid  of  it."  1  The  process  of 
gathering  and  handling  the  serpents  previous  to  the 
afternoon  ceremonies  doubtless  has  the  effect  of 
stupefying  them  more  or  less. 

In  the  attempt  at  description  of  this  complicated 
ceremonial,  only  what  have  seemed  essentials  have 
been  noticed,  and  to  avoid  too  much  wearisome  de 
tail  even  many  typical  features  have  been  omitted. 
It  is  by  no  means  an  endeavor  to  set  forth  with 
exactness  what  may  be  seen  at  any  one  of  the 
pueblos  at  which  these  dances  are  held,  but  simply  to 
notice  the  prominent  features  which,  from  personal 
observation  and  from  report,  seem  characteristic. 
There  is  considerable  variation  in  minor  points  — 
variation  in  the  construction  of  the  altars,  in  the  cos 
tumes,  in  the  number  of  days  set  apart  for  the 

1  Peter  Moran:  Quoted  in  Pueblo  Indians,  Extra  Census 
Bulletin,  p.  70. 


228  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

complete  ceremonial,  in  the  number  of  performers, 
and  in  many  of  the  little  peculiarities  appearing  in 
the  preparation  and  consummation  of  the  whole 
drama. 

It  is  a  more  uncanny  and  intense  dance  than  are 
those  usually  found  in  the  land  of  the  Pueblos.  The 
isolation  of  the  Mokis,  the  exceptional  configuration 
of  their  country,  and  the  unrelenting  struggle  for 
food, —  all  contribute  to  deepen  the  significance  of 
the  cult. 

The  whole  affair  is  a  long  and  complex  supplica 
tion  for  rain,  in  which  there  is  also  a  mixture  of 
other  rites,  especially  those  appertaining  to  the  sun 
and  corn.  Some  think  there  are  also  traces  of 
ancestor-worship.  There  is  probably  in  it  also  an 
element  of  thanksgiving  as  well  as  petition.  The 
main  purpose,  however,  unquestionably  is  to  appeal 
to  the  supernatural  powers  for  rain  to  continue  the 
growth  and  bring  about  the  ripening  of  the  corn. 

The  winds  and  rains  come  from  the  four  points 
of  the  heavens ;  hence  there  is  the  constant  observance 
of  the  number  four,  exemplified  in  the  days  of  pray 
ing  and  fasting,  in  the  repetition  of  the  dances,  in 
the  use  of  various  insignia,  and  in  the  final  act  of 
releasing  the  serpents  in  the  direction  of  the  four 
corners  of  the  earth.  The  short  flat  buzzing-stick, 
when  swung  about  the  head,  makes  a  noise  very 
similar  to  that  of  rain  driven  by  the  wind.  The 
lavish  use  of  meal  as  a  concomitant  to  corn-culture 
is  also  easily  interpreted.  The  symbolic  association 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS          229 

of  feathers  with  clouds  is  common  in  the  Southwest. 
The  resemblance  of  smoke  to  clouds  is  also  very 
suggestive,  and  so  there  is  much  smoking  and  blow 
ing  of  smoke  toward  the  cardinal  points.  Perhaps 
placing  the  snakes  in  the  mouth  and  thus  giving  them 
the  opportunity  of  striking,  but  at  the  same  time 
keeping  them  from  striking  by  means  of  the  feather 
wands  symbolizes  the  lightning-stroke  and  the  ward 
ing  of  it  off  by  the  higher  powers.1  The  chants  of 
the  Snake  men  resemble  the  moaning  of  the  winds. 
The  small  rattles  of  the  Antelope  men  remind  one  of 
the  hissing  of  rattlesnakes,  and  the  soft  pattering  of 
the  rain.  The  race  at  sunrise  is  evidently  a  ceremony 
associated  with  both  rain  and  sun,  for  as  Fewkes 
says :  "  Like  ancient  Aryans,  the  Tusayan  Indians 
pray  to  the  rising  sun  for  blessings,  but  the  meaning 
of  the  word  '  blessing  '  is  always  rain,  that  the  farms 
may  be  watered  and  the  crops  grow  to  maturity. 
The  worship  of  the  sun,  therefore,  is  of  great  impor 
tance  ;  it  pervades  all  the  ritual,  but  it  is  always  with 
one  intent  —  the  overpowering  need  of  the  agricul 
turist  for  rain  in  a  desert  environment."  2 

Although  the  Moki  Snake  Dance  has  attracted 
more  attention  than  any  other  ceremonial  of  the 
Southwest,  yet  serpents  have  been  used  in  religious 
observances  at  other  pueblos.  Coronado  3  found  them 

1  Peet:  American  Antiquarian,  vol.  xvi,  p.  355. 

a  Smithsonian  Report,  1895,  p.  689. 

* "  Aconstumbraban  a  criar  muy  grandes  culebras  y  ten- 
ian  las  en  beneracion."  Relation  de  la  Jornada  de  Cobola- 
Castaneda. 


230  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

thus  venerated  at  various  places,  when  he  made  his 
famous  journey  up  from  Mexico.  Hodge  reports 
the  use  of  them  up  to  a  recent  date,  in  a  half-dozen 
villages  of  the  Pueblo  country.1  Mrs.  Stephenson 
testifies  to  the  conversion  of  them  to  similar  purposes 
to-day  at  Sia.2 

The  Moki  Snake  Dance  has  been  selected  as  a  sam 
ple  of  the  barbarous  cults  of  the  Southwest,  because  it 
is  on  the  whole  the  most  decidedly  unique.  Many 
other  ceremonials  which  are  equally  interesting,  if 
not  so  elaborate  and  strenuous,  are  held  not  only 
in  the  Moki  country  at  other  times  of  the  year,  but  at 
other  pueblos.  At  Cochiti,  Sia,  San  Domingo,  Santa 
Ana,  Sandia,  Isleta,  Santa  Clara,  San  Juan,  and 
Picoris,  the  principal  dances  are  held  during  the 
summer  months,  and  at  nearly  all  the  others  in  the 
late  spring  or  early  fall.  Many  of  them  show 
the  influences  of  the  theology  of  civilized  man. 
There  is  a  strange  mixture  of  Christian  religion 
and  barbarian  cult.  Still,  the  two  elements  can  be 
fairly  well  distinguished.  The  proximity  of  the 
pueblos  of  the  Rio  Grande  to  civilization  has 
robbed  many  of  the  dances  of  much  of  their  old- 
time  solemnity.  Because  the  festivals  are  visited  by 
so  many  whites,  there  is  a  strong  temptation  to 
emphasize  the  recreative  part  of  the  program.  Yet, 
behind  all  innovations  and  modern  accessories,  there 

1  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  ix,  p.  133. 
3  Eleventh  Annual   Report  of  the   Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
p.  69,  et  seq. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS          231 

may  be  easily  found  the  pervading  influences  of  the 
desert  environment. 

The  inevitable  apprehension  that  accompanies 
life  on  a  land  of  scanty  vegetation,  of  frequently 
rainless  seasons,  of  failing  streams,  of  famine  and 
death,  crops  out  in  all  their  ceremonials.  As  an 
example,  the  San  Domingo  village  is  one  of  the 
largest  along  the  banks  of  the  Rio  Grande,  and  has 
excellent  advantages  for  irrigation.  Their  depend 
ence  upon  the  gods  of  the  sky,  therefore,  may  be 
considered  as  reduced  to  the  minimum.  Their  most 
noted  ceremonial,  however,  is  the  Tablita  or  Corn 
Dance.  It  is  a  prayer  for  rain.  The  chants  of  the 
chorus  are  supplications  to  the  skies.  Their  cos 
tumes  are  decorated  with  images  of  clouds,  rain, 
lightning,  and  serpents.  A  portion  of  the  chorus 
runs  thus :  - 

"  Now  come  rain!   Now  come  rain! 
Fall  upon  the  mountains;  sink  into  the  ground. 
By  and  by  the  springs  are  made 
Deep  beneath  the  hills,  etc."  a 

A  rude  sort  of  poetry,  of  which  the  foregoing  is 
a  fair  sample,  has  been  a  usual  concomitant  of  primi 
tive  man's  festivals.  Music,  dance,  and  verse  have 
all  evidently  grown  up  on  the  same  stalk.  From  its 
very  incipiency,  each  of  these  has  doubtless  been  the 
assistant  and  complement  of  the  others.  The  sounds, 
sights,  and  activities  of  nature  might  reasonably 
account  for  the  genesis  of  them  all  in  the  mind 

1  Poorer  Eleventh  Census  Report,  Indians,  p.  438. 


THE   AMERICAN   INDIAN 


of  early,  imitative,  and  childlike  man.  The  earth- 
pervading  rhythm,  of  which  Herbert  Spencer  has 
written  so  interestingly,  must  have  been  to  each  a  very 
suggestive  stimulus. 

One  of  the  chief  elements  of  early  poetry  seems  to 
have  been  a  striking  parallelism,  running  sometimes 
through  many  lines.  Hebrew  scriptures  illustrate 
this  :- 

"I  will  bless  the  Lord  at  all  times; 
His  praise  shall  be  continually  in  my  mouth."1 

In  primitive  American  poetry  there  is  much  paral 
lelism,  but  perhaps  its  chief  characteristic  lies  one 
step  back  in  the  order  of  development  —  that  is  in 
mere  repetition.  Brinton  writes  :  "  The  same  verse 
may  be  repeated  over  and  over  again  ;  or  the  wording 
of  the  verses  may  be  changed,  but  each  may  be 
accompanied  by  a  burden  or  refrain,  which  is 
repeated  by  the  singer  or  the  chorus.  There  are  the 
two  fundamental  characteristics  of  aboriginal  poetry, 
which  are  found  everywhere  on  the  American  conti 
nent.  The  refrain  is  usually  interjectional  and  mean 
ingless;  and  the  verses  are  often  repeated  without 
alteration,  four  or  five  times  over."  2  Mooney  in  his 
able  article  on  the  Ghost-Dance  Religion,  gives  many 
excellent  examples  of  songs  illustrating  this;  and 
these  productions  are  similar  to  those  found  in  the 
land  of  the  Pueblos  and  in  other  regions  of  North 
America.  A  sample  is  taken  at  random.  The  writer 

1  First  Principles,  part  ii,  chap.  x. 
a  Essays  of  An  Americanist,  p.  285. 


DANCES    AND    FESTIVALS  233 

says :  "  It  is  sung  to  a  plaintive  tune,  sometimes  with 
tears  rolling  down  the  cheeks  of  the  dancers  as  the 
words  would  bring  up  thoughts  of  their  present 
miserable  and  dependent  condition.  It  may  be  con 
sidered  the  Indian  paraphrase  of  the  Lord's  prayer." 

"  Father,  have  pity  on  me, 
Father,  have  pity  on  me; 
I  am  crying  for  thirst, 
I  am  crying  for  thirst; 
All  is  gone  —  I  have  nothing  to  eat, 
All  is  gone  —  I  have  nothing  to  eat. 


•  •  i 


1  Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bureau  of  Ethnology, 
part  ii,  p.  977. 


CHAPTER    X 

CONCLUSION 

EF  T  to  himself,  the  American  Indian  was 
truly  a  child  of  nature.  Wherever  found 
he  reflected  his  surroundings.  His  customs, 
manners,  codes  of  ethics,  ideals,  and  ambitions, — 
all  mirrored  his  relationship  to  the  rude  and  hostile 
world  about  him.  Half  understood  by  those  in  higher 
grades  of  culture  —  who  on  account  of  those  su 
perior  attainments  have  been  unable  to  place  them 
selves  in  a  position  to  see  matters  at  hand  as  he  saw 
them  —  he  has,  again  and  again,  been  unavoidably 
the  victim  of  misapprehension  and  a  sufferer  from 
radically  wrong  impressions. 

As  a  warrior,  he  has  been  singularly  misconceived. 
The  aborigines  were  not  accustomed  to  large  armies 
like  those  of  civilized  nations.  To  say  nothing  about 
the  superior  skill  in  military  operations  necessary 
for  handling  great  masses  of  men,  which,  of  course, 
these  people  lacked,  the  nature  of  the  country  itself, 
its  trackless  forests,  bridgeless  rivers,  rainless  and 
barren  regions,  and  countless  natural  obstacles  in  the 
way  of  concentrating  sufficient  food  supplies, —  these 
and  many  other  difficulties  rendered  the  organization 
and  transportation  of  vast  armies  impossible. 

The  very  organization  of  an  Indian  war-party 
234 


CONCLUSION  235 

and  the  conditions  under  which  it  existed  in  its  usual 
primitive  form  gave  to  it  a  peculiar  character.  It 
generally  sprang  into  existence  to  meet  an  emergency 
and  disappeared  no  less  suddenly  when  its  object  had 
been  accomplished.  The  war  dance  was  the  ceremony 
of  enlistment.  There  were  no  formal  oaths  of  loyalty. 
There  was  no  prescribed  penalty  for  the  warrior 
who  deserted  his  comrades,  or  even  turned  against 
them  by  becoming  an  ally  of  the  enemy.  .His  inclina 
tion  to  serve  was  his  only  bond.  All  the  prominent 
formalities  and  complicated  devices,  so  familiar  in 
military  circles  of  civilized  nations  for  the  preserva 
tion  and  efficiency  of  an  army,  were  not  a  part  of  the 
regulations  of  the  soldiery  of  these  unlettered  people. 
The  chief  was  chosen  for  the  single  expedition  at 
hand ;  and,  when  the  occasion  calling  for  his  services 
had  passed,  he  retired  to  occupy  himself  in  the  same 
pursuits  as  those  engaged  in  by  his  temporary  sub 
ordinates.  He  gravitated  to  become  simply  the 
companion  and  equal  of  those  he  had  once  led  to 
battle.  Of  course  the  personality  of  the  leader  largely 
determined  the  stability  and  potency  of  the  band  he 
led.1  Under  a  strong  magnetic  chieftain,  a  handful  of 
savage  warriors  has  often  accomplished  wonderful 
things;  under  a  weak  vacillating  one  many  a  prom 
ising  aggregation  of  able  fighters  has  needlessly 

1  Regarding  the  Iroquois,  Golden  in  his  quaint  language 
says:  "Their  Leaders  and  Captains  .  .  .  obtain  their  Au 
thority,  by  the  general  Opinion  of  their  Courage  and  Con 
duct,  and  lose  it  by  a  failure  in  those  Virtues."  —  History  of 
the  Five  Nations:  Introduction. 


236  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

suffered  defeat.  On  many  occasions,  the  restless, 
impulsive  nature  of  the  individual  warriors  has 
jeopardized  a  well-planned  enterprise.  Love  of  inde 
pendence  was  one  of  the  chief  traits  of  the  race.  Such 
a  tendency  was  in  the  very  air.  The  early  settlers 
from  the  European  nations  were  not  long  in  this 
country  before  the  spirit  of  liberty  —  in  many  cases 
the  spirit  of  lawlessness  —  got  into  their  blood. 
Why  should  not  the  far  less  restrained  warrior  of  the 
woods  chafe  under  restrictions  —  even  under  the 
leadership  of  a  member  of  his  own  race?  Many  are 
the  instances  in  which  insubordination,  combined  with 
strong  passions  and  erratic  natures,  has  worked 
serious  mischief  among  the  red  men.  Not  accustomed 
to  follow  out  a  line  of  related  thought  to  its  inevitable 
and  ultimate  conclusion,  or  to  anticipate  what  a  cer 
tain  course  of  action  would  necessarily  lead  to,  an 
Indian  was  in  constant  danger  of  committing,  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  some  crime  which  would 
bring  upon  himself  and  his  whole  tribe  a  series  of 
misfortunes,  perhaps  complete  destruction.  Even  the 
life  of  a  great  leader  like  a  Philip  or  a  Pontiac  was 
not  immune  from  revengeful,  passionate,  or  bribe- 
taking  members  of  his  own  race. 

The  nature  of  the  country,  therefore,  and  the 
necessarily  imperfect  organization  of  bands  of 
warriors  made  great  military  campaigns,  especially 
among  the  nomadic  tribes,  practically  impossible. 
We  do  not  forget  the  forces  that  met  Cortez  and 
Pizarro,  nor  the  occasional  singleness  of  purpose 


CONCLUSION  237 

in  the  sorties  of  semi-nomadic  tribes  like  those  of  the 
Iroquois;  but,  generally  speaking,  the  best  fighting 
was  done  by  small  bands  and  with  little  pre-arrange- 
ment  of  action.  The  Indian  on  such  occasions,  as 
Parkman  says,  "  becomes  a  truly  formidable  enemy. 
Fired  with  the  hope  of  winning  scalps,  he  is  stanch 
as  a  bloodhound.  No  hardship  can  divert  him  from 
his  purpose,  and  no  danger  subdue  his  patient  and 
cautious  courage."  1 

In  such  fighting  there  is  of  course  none  of  that 
pomp  and  glamour  which  accompany  the  immense 
armies  of  great  civilized  nations.  Since  the  attacks 
were  of  the  nature  of  hand-to-hand  combats,  there 
was  no  avoiding  the  ugly  features  that  must  always 
accompany  that  kind  of  hostility.  Personal  wrongs, 
individual  hatred,  long-standing  feuds,  tribal  griev 
ances,  revenge,  plunder,  and  the  abnormally  developed 
craving  for  strife  and  blood  were  the  most  notice 
able  factors  that  entered  into  savage  warfare.  The 
methods  have  been  characterized  as  deceitful,  cow 
ardly,  and  inhuman.  It  is  true  that  we  may  recall 
many  instances  of  righting  which  appear  disgusting 
and  shocking  to  sensitive,  civilized  people;  but  it  is 
nevertheless  worthy  of  notice  that  the  white  man 
learned  and  appropriated  many  arts  and  tricks  of 
border  combat  from  his  less  pretentious  red  foe. 
The  French,  from  the  very  first,  showed  a  strong 
disposition  to  amalgamate  with  the  Indians  and  to 
learn  from  them  the  technicalities  of  barbarian  fight- 
1  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac.  Tenth  Edition,  vol.  i,  p.  193. 


238  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

ing.  The  fur  trade  naturally  threw  the  two  races  into 
close  contact  and  tended  to  foster  companionship. 
The  bushrangers  gradually  accustomed  themselves 
to  hunt,  to  eat,  and  to  live,  with  the  wild  tribes 
scattered  along  the  St.  Lawrence,  the  Great  Lakes, 
the  Ohio  with  its  tributaries,  and  the  upper  waters 
of  the  Mississippi.  They  dwelt  in  wigwams  and  took 
Indian  squaws  for  wives.  They  adopted  the  manners 
and  customs  of  the  aborigines  with  whom  their 
fortunes  were  closely  linked.  They  painted  their 
faces,  tied  feathers  in  their  hair,  donned  buckskin 
clothing,  slept  on  bison  robes  and  bear  skins,  joined 
in  the  war  dance,  and  gathered  scalps  from  the  heads 
of  the  enemy  in  true  Indian  fashion.  Not  only  these 
French  vagrants  became  rivals  of  the  natives  in 
savagery,  but  even  high  officials  of  the  same  blood 
stooped  to  practices  excessively  revolting.  "  Fronte- 
nac  caused  an  Iroquois  prisoner  to  be  burnt  alive 
to  strike  terror  into  his  countrymen;  and  Louvigny, 
French  commandant  at  Michillimackinac,  in  1695, 
tortured  an  Iroquois  ambassador  to  death,  that  he 
might  break  off  a  negotiation  between  that  people 
and  the  Wyandots."  l 

The  English,  unlike  their  Spanish  and  French 
neighbors,  held  aloof  from  mingling  freely  with 
their  dusky  brothers.  They  met  them  coolly  on 
matters  of  pure  business,  bravely  confronted  them 
in  battle  when  occasion  called  for  it,  or  with  more  or 
less  condescension  even  approached  them  in  a  benev- 

'Parkman:  The  Conspiracy  of  Pontiac,  vol.  i,  p.  75. 


CONCLUSION  239 

olent  spirit  for  the  purpose  of  spiritually  enlightening 
them.  Still  those  unromantic  home-makers,  while 
realizing  the  inferiority  of  their  instructors,  took 
many  lessons  from  them,  and  on  many  occasions  put 
the  teachings  into  practice.  There  was  a  radical 
modification  of  the  application  of  military  tactics  to 
the  struggle  for  frontier  Anglo-Saxon  possession  in 
America  between  the  time  of  the  lamentable  fate  of 
Braddock's  army  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  of  the 
campaign  of  Sullivan  in  the  Wyoming  Valley  on 
the  other.  The  experiences  of  Sullivan's  men  pre 
vented  them  from  falling  into  ambuscade,  as 
Braddock's  army  had  done,  and  the  march  of  the 
white  victors  from  the  banks  of  the  Susquehanna 
up  through  western  New  York,  was  of  the  nature 
of  an  Indian  invasion.  "  In  this  devastating  raid," 
says  Drake,  "  not  less  than  forty  Indian  towns 
were  burned,  and  our  countrymen  showed  them 
selves  no  less  savage  than  were  the  people  they 
attacked."  1 

Among  the  many  disgraceful  episodes  arising 
out  of  numerous  controversies  with  the  Cherokees 
before  their  removal,  was  the  one  in  1760  at 
Ninety-six,  when  hostages  were  murdered  by  the 
whites  —  a  kind  of  proceeding  against  an  enemy, 
which  has  been  considered  the  culmination  of  dis 
honorable  conduct  since  the  very  dawn  of  civiliza 
tion  —  and  the  bodies  of  the  dead-avenging  braves 
were  thrown  to  the  dogs,  after  their  scalps  had 

1  Indian  History  for  Young  Folks,  p.  312. 


240  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

been  torn  off  and  displayed  on  the  tops  of  the 
bastions.1 

The  art  of  war  on  the  part  of  the  Indian  was  an 
evolution.  It  grew  out  of  his  experiences.  He  had 
not  studied  rules  laid  down  in  books.  He  was  not 
familiar  with  great  military'  movements.  He  was 
ignorant  of  Macedonian  phalanxes  or  of  Napoleonic 
strategy;  but  he  knew  how  the  eagle  is  accustomed 
to  swoop  upon  its  prey,  and  how  the  panther  lies  in 
wait  to  pounce  upon  its  victim.  Nice  points  in  diplo 
macy  were  not  readily  suggested  to  him  through  the 
great  operations  of  nature;  nor,  among  his  teachers, 
the  denizens  of  air,  land,  and  water,  was  arbitration 
a  popular  method  of  settling  disputes.  Caution,  alert 
ness,  priority  of  movement,  swiftness  of  thought  and 
act,  and  the  seizing  of  advantages  without  deeply 
considered  distinctions  of  ethical  relationship,  were 
the  chief  characteristics  of  barbarian  warfare.  If  the 
savage  practised  treachery,  he  could  find  plenty  of 
examples  on  every  hand  to  justify  his  action.  If  he 
gave  no  warning  to  the  enemy  he  was  about  to  slay, 
neither  did  the  lightning  give  warning  to  him,  and  his 
kindred,  nor  even  to  the  innocent  brutes  about  him. 

The  warrior  was  a  volunteer,  never  a  hireling. 
Fighting  was  doubtless  his  chief  glory,  and  was  with 
him  a  matter  of  taste,  duty,  or  expediency.  Rather 
than  anything  else,  it  might  be  called  his  profession; 
yet  he  was  not  inclined  to  take  foolhardy  risks.  He 

1  Bancroft's  History  of  the  United  States.    Centenary  Edi 
tion,  vol.  Hi,  p.  234. 


CONCLUSION  241 

was  oftentimes  branded  as  a  coward  by  his  white  foes, 
because  to  him  cunning  and  treachery  seemed  to 
answer  the  purposes  of  courage  and  veracity.  He 
easily  understood  that  his  scalp,  if  kept  on  his  head, 
was  of  more  value  to  himself  and  his  tribe  than  if 
dangling  from  the  belt  of  an  enemy.  Secretiveness, 
therefore,  was  one  of  his  cardinal  virtues.  He  took 
advantage  of  suggestive  auxiliaries.  Like  the  speech 
less  creatures,  great  and  small,  on  every  hand,  he 
comprehended  the  value  of  environment  as  a  protec 
tion  against  enemies.  He  became  an  adept  in  the  art 
of  self -concealment.  The  zebras  and  leopards  of  the 
flecked  forests  of  Africa,  the  peculiarly  marked  but 
terflies  of  the  East  Indies,  or  the  garden  pests  of 
America,  all  with  their  strikingly  adaptive  coloration, 
were  not  better  shielded  by  protective  resemblances 
than  was  the  American  Indian,  when  he  chose  such 
means  of  security.  He  would  stretch  himself  along 
side  an  advantageously  colored  rock  or  log  and 
remain  motionless  for  hours  at  a  time;  or,  in  the 
Pueblo  country,  he  would  roll  himself  in  his  blanket 
overspread  with  reddish-brown  dust  and  thus  make 
himself  unobservable,  not  only  to  the  ordinary  passer 
by,  but  even  to  a  vigilant  enemy.  Often  he  would 
thus  secrete  himself,  not  for  self -protection  merely, 
but  to  await  an  opportune  moment  for  avenging 
some  un  forgotten  wrong. 

The  custom  of  adopting  strangers  of  their  own 
race  into  a  tribe  was  very  widespread  among  the 
aborigines.  Since  the  race,  as  a  rule,  was  engaged 

16 


242  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

in  continual  warfare  there  was  a  very  serious  drain 
upon  human  life.  If,  after  a  fight,  the  number  of 
captives  was  large,  some  would  probably  be  put  to 
death,  and  the  remainder  distributed  among  the 
victors.  On  account  of  possible  revolts,  it  was 
necessary  to  limit  the  number  of  adoptions.  Often 
it  happened  that,  through  a  series  of  years,  a  tribe, 
engaged  in  successive  combats,  would  become  so 
disorganized  and  reduced  in  strength,  it  would  easily 
fall  a  prey  to  some  more  powerful  tribe;  and  the 
members  would  be  distributed  among  the  various 
clans  and  families  of  the  conquerors,  by  a  rude 
process  of  naturalization.  A  considerable  number  of 
wanderers  and  outcasts  also  helped  from  time  to  time 
to  swell  the  depleted  ranks.  On  account  of  easy 
assimilation,  children  and  child-bearing  women  were 
considered  especially  desirable  acquisitions,  notably  in 
parts  of  the  country  where  an  increase  of  human 
mouths  did  not  too  much  hazard  the  food  supply. 

It  has  been  customary  for  ethnologists  and  political 
economists  to  divide  mankind  in  the  Old  World  into 
three  divisions,  or  stages  of  culture,  considered  from 
the  standpoint  of  food-quest. 

The  first  class  depends  upon  game,  and  the  mem 
bers  of  it  are  hunters.  Here  the  food  supply  is 
always  irregular  and  uncertain  —  to-day  a  feast,  to 
morrow  a  famine.  The  hunters  are  obliged  to  seek, 
to  follow,  and  to  capture,  the  wild  animals.  Their 
life  thus  becomes  more  or  less  nomadic  and  hazardous. 
When  game  is  the  only  source  of  food  supply,  there 


CONCLUSION  243 

can  be  no  large  and  fixed  clusters  of  men,  no  compli 
cated  social  organizations.  A  great  extent  of  country 
is  required  to  support  even  a  scanty  population. 

The  second  class  consists  of  those  depending  for 
their  food  upon  flocks  and  herds.  They  too  are  un 
settled.  The  animals  must  wander  far  and  wide  in 
search  of  suitable  grasses;  and,  on  account  of  this 
semi-nomadism,  the  population  must  be  always  scat 
tered,  and  restricted  in  numbers. 

The  third  and  highest  class  consists  of  agricultur 
ists.  The  cultivation  of  the  soil  increases  the  food 
supply  immeasurably,  and  allows  a  far  denser  popu 
lation  than  either  of  the  other  occupations.  Hus 
bandry  is  a  herald  of  civilization.  It  requires  skill, 
method,  invention,  and  forethought ;  and  there  must 
be  an  increase  of  intelligence  to  meet  the  expansion 
of  the  industry  and  to  overcome  new  difficulties  in  the 
way  of  promoting  it.  As  the  population  grows  denser, 
there  comes  to  be  more  and  more  interdependence. 
The  social  groups  become  larger.  Domestic  life  has 
a  higher  significance.  Society  and  government  be 
come  more  complicated.  Labor  begins  to  differentiate. 
Starvation  is  less  frequent.  Human  life  is  more 
secure.  The  arts  of  peace  arise,  and  there  is  very 
discernible  progress  in  all  directions. 

An  attempt  to  classify  the  aborigines  of  the  New 
World  so  as  to  fit  closely  these  stages  of  culture  is 
unsatisfactory.  All  the  Indians  were  more  or  less 
hunters,  some  were  successful  agriculturists,  or,  more 
strictly,  horticulturists;  but,  in  their  primitive  con- 


244  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

dition,  there  were  no  tribes  that  could  appropriately 
be  called  herdsmen.  The  deep  forests,  abounding  in 
large  fur-bearing  animals,  tended  to  make  and  keep 
the  tribes  above  and  around  the  Great  Lakes,  for 
instance,  skillful  Nimrods,  while  rude  implements 
and  natural  difficulties  in  the  way  of  clearing  and 
cultivating  the  land  tended  to  the  same  end.  The 
lack  of  suitable  domestic  animals  in  every  part  of 
the  New  World  handicapped  the  native  as  an  agri 
culturist.  The  absence  of  such  animals  forbade  the 
development  of  those  traits  of  character  which 
spontaneously  grew  out  of  the  life  of  the  herdsman. 

It  is  observable  in  all  stages  of  society  that  a  single 
characteristic  of  soil  or  climate,  or  the  preponderance 
of  a  single  kind  of  animal,  vegetable,  or  mineral,  may 
color  the  whole  social  and  industrial  life  of  a  district 
or  country. 

The  bison  on  the  western  plains  made  the  Indian 
of  that  immense  area  emphatically  a  hunter.  It  did 
more.  It  brought  out  and  developed  certain  physical 
and  mental  characteristics,  naturally  growing  out  of 
that  region  and  the  mode  of  life  upon  it.  There  was 
a  remarkably  close  dependence  of  those  scattered  red 
tribes  upon  the  numerous  herds  that  ranged  from 
the  crests  of  the  Rockies  to  the  foot  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies,  and  especially  was  this  true  of  the  tribes  on 
the  treeless  portions.  Much  more  than  simply  the 
food  question  entered  into  the  relationship.  The  bison 
was  almost  an  object  of  worship,  and  well  it  might 
be.  It  first  of  all  furnished  flesh  for  sustenance.  The 


CONCLUSION  245 

rump  and  shoulders  of  the  animal  were  tender  and 
nourishing  for  roasts;  and,  when  cut  into  strips  and 
cured,  were  especially  well  adapted  for  rations  on 
long  journeys.  Sometimes  other  parts  of  the  flesh 
were  thoroughly  dried  by  the  heat  of  sun  or  fire,  then 
pounded  into  powder  and  mixed  with  fat,  wild  berries, 
choke-cherries,  or  perhaps  other  ingredients,  and 
finally  pressed  into  cakes  or  packed  into  skin  sacks 
and  stored  away  for  use  in  days  of  need.  This  mix 
ture  was  known  as  "  pemmican."  The  tongue, 
marrow,  brains,  and  liver  were  considered  special 
delicacies,  but  in  times  of  scarcity  almost  every  part 
of  the  animal  was  consumed.  The  hide  of  the  bison 
was  appropriated  for  bedding,  clothing,  wigwams, 
and  shields.  The  sinews  made  excellent  thread  for 
sewing  garments  and  tent  coverings,  and  excellent 
strings  for  bows.  The  bones  and  horns  were  con 
verted  into  tools,  furniture,  and  arrow-points;  the 
hoofs  were  boiled  to  produce  glue;  the  dried  chips 
were  used  for  fuel ;  and  the  long  hair  about  the  head 
and  neck  was  twisted  into  ropes  and  strings.  If,  in 
addition,  this  animal  had  been  a  meritorious  beast 
of  burden,  it  might  have  revolutionized  the  whole 
mode  of  life  of  that  entire  region. 

What  the  bison  was  to  the  Indian  of  the  North  . 
American  interior,  the  palm-tree  was  to  the  red  man 
of  the  South  American  tropics.  It  was  used  by  the 
natives  in  scores  of  noticeable  ways.  The  wood  was 
cut  or  broken  into  various  lengths  for  poles,  beams, 
and  rafters  to  compose  the  framework  of  their  rude 


246  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

homes ;  and  leaves  of  the  plant  were  spread  overhead 
to  form  the  roofs.  Furniture,  more  or  less  uncouth 
but  useful,  was  also  made  from  the  trunk  of  the  tree, 
which  further  furnished  material  for  simple  musical 
instruments,  for  various  implements  in  domestic  ser 
vice,  for  several  weapons  used  in  war  or  in  the  chase, 
and  for  innumerable  ornaments  and  gew-gaws  to  be 
worn  on  the  person  or  arranged  about  the  house 
hold. 

The  fresh  leaves,  which  are  said  to  be  very  whole 
some,  were  variously  utilized  for  food.  From  the 
body  of  the  tree,  gums  and  oils  could  be  obtained, 
kept  for  a  long  time,  and  eaten  in  case  of  scarcity 
of  ordinary  foods.  Nutritious  substances  were  ob 
tained  also  from  the  fleshy  fruit  of  several  species. 
From  various  parts  of  the  tree  were  manufactured 
wholesome  drinks.  The  juices  were  often  converted 
into  wines,  intoxicating  liquors,  and  vinegar.  From 
certain  species  sugar  was  extensively  manufactured. 
Milk,  similar  to  that  of  the  cocoanut,  was  easily 
obtained  and  widely  drunk  for  nourishment.  From 
many  trees,  oily  kernels  were  gathered,  and  then 
roasted,  pulverized,  and  used  for  coffee.  From  the 
roots  were  manufactured  various  kinds  of  medicines. 

The  wood  and  leaves  of  many  palm-trees  were  ex 
cellent  for  splitting,  breaking,  and  beating  into  fibre, 
out  of  which  cloth  of  various  degrees  of  texture  was 
woven.  From  the  same  material  also  were  made  hats, 
mats,  baskets,  brooms,  and  many  other  articles  of 
utility  and  ornament.  Several  varieties  of  well- 


CONCLUSION  247 

wrought  cordage  were  ingeniously  braided  from 
this  same  fibre. 

With  very  little  labor  the  big  broad  leaves  could 
be  converted  into  fans,  sunshades,  and  umbrellas ; 
and,  from  the  stalk  of  these  leaves,  could  be  taken 
a  substance  so  light  and  porous  that  it  answered  the 
purpose  of  cork. 

A  waxy  exudation  forms  on  the  trunks  of  the  trees, 
and  this  has  been  utilized  very  extensively  by  the 
natives  for  illuminating  purposes.  Out  of  it  they 
can  make  candles  for  use  on  the  highways,  in  their 
hovels,  at  their  dances,  and  elsewhere. 

Again,  seemingly  as  if  to  meet  the  whole  round  of 
requirements  of  the  natives,  there  are  certain  species 
of  palm-tree  which  are  slender  climbers,  growing 
several  hundred  feet  in  length ;  and  these  have  been 
used  by  the  natives,  time  out  of  mind,  for  construct 
ing  swings  and  hammocks,  and  especially  for  build 
ing  suspension  bridges  as  means  for  crossing  over 
swift  streams,  deep  chasms,  and  dangerous  places  in 
general. 

Thus  food,  clothing,  and  shelter,  the  three  great  ne 
cessities  of  the  human  race, —  these,  along  with  scores 
of  other  convenient  and  desirable  accessories,  were 
furnished,  from  this  single  great  plant,  to  the  natives 
inhabiting  one  of  the  most  extensive  and  interesting 
regions  of  the  world.  The  widespread  influence  of 
bamboo,  to-day,  is  not  more  conspicuously  revealed 
in  the  industrial  and  social  life  of  the  natives  and 
tribes  of  southeastern  Asia  than  has  been  that  of 


248  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

the  palm-tree,    from  time   immemorial,   among  the 
aborigines  of  the  Orinoco  and  Amazon  basins. 

As  already  noticed,  a  prominent  kind  of  animal, 
vegetable,  or  mineral  may  control  and  fashion  the 
whole  industrial  life  of  a  community.  Examples  are 
found  all  over  the  world  in  localities  comprising 
gold  fields,  lumber  camps,  fishing  ports,  and  other 
busy  centres,  within  each  of  which  flourishes  some 
naturally  prevailing  industry.  The  thoughts,  inter 
ests,  and  ambitions  of  the  people  of  any  of  such 
limited  areas  are  deeply  rooted  in  their  principal 
bread-winning  occupation.  Since  this  is  so,  even 
among  civilized  people,  where  intercommunication 
tends  to  make  them  homogenous  and  cosmopolitan, 
how  much  more  noticeable  is  it  among  savages,  iso 
lated,  slavishly  dependent  upon  the  spontaneous  prod 
ucts  of  nature,  and  circumscribed  by  a  thousand 
domineering  agencies. 

As  it  is  evident  that  deep  physical  contrasts 
between  two  lands  bring  out  sharp  contrasts  between 
the  people  occupying  them,  so  it  is  obvious  that  a 
leading  feature  or  peculiarity,  common  to  two  coun 
tries,  tends  to  bring  out  similar  traits  and  customs 
among  the  people  of  both,  even  though  they  may  lie 
under  climatically  opposite  skies.  For  instance,  one 
would  hardly  look  for  anything  in  common  among 
the  occupants  of  the  land  of  the  Pueblos  and  those  of 
the  land  of  the  Eskimos;  yet,  while  dissimilarities 
prevail,  there  are  certain  peculiarities  of  these  regions 
that  foster  strikingly  similar  characteristics  among 


CONCLUSION  249 

the  inhabitants.  It  is  needless  to  state  that  compared 
with  each  other  they  are  lands  of  sharp  physical 
extremes.  The  one  is  a  narrow  fringe  of  seashore, 
reaching  from  the  Aleutian  Island  on  the  west,  around 
to  Greenland  and  Baffin's  Bay  on  the  east,  several 
thousand  miles  in  length,  and  deeply  indented  by 
numerous  arms  of  the  Arctic  Ocean ;  the  other,  as  we 
have  noticed,  is  a  large  and  more  or  less  rounded 
tract  of  inland,  sub-tropical  country,  composed 
largely  of  sand-fields  and  ranges  of  mountains.  The 
Pueblos  can  make  a  living  only  by  clinging  to  the 
banks  of  their  few  streams,  where  they  can  engage  in 
rude  agricultural  pursuits;  the  Eskimos,  only  by 
stringing  themselves  along  the  shore,  and  capturing 
whatever  the  frozen  ocean  and  bleak  coasts  will  yield. 
In  both  lands  the  physical  features  are  strikingly 
exceptional.  In  both,  the  population  is  scanty.  In 
both,  there  is  natural  isolation.  In  both,  the  inhabit 
ants  are  ever  on  the  verge  of  starvation.  In  the 
remote  Eskimo  country,  the  year  does  not  consist  of 
clearly  defined  seasons,  but  of  one  day,  as  it  were. 
Here  is  a  region  of  waste,  over  which  the  low  sun 
incessantly  shines  for  months  at  a  time.  Though  it 
passes  only  a  short  distance  up  the  sky  at  any  period, 
yet  its  slanting  rays,  unceasingly  pouring  in  upon  that 
quarter  of  the  globe  for  thousands  of  hours  upon  a 
stretch,  bring  about  many  changes,  even  in  those 
abnormal,  snow-crusted  regions.  As  an  effect  of 
this  steady  sunlight,  fixed  or  floating  mountains  of 
ice  snap  and  split  into  enormous  blocks,  which,  with 


250  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

startling  crashes,  tumble  over  and  over,  and  finally 
break  into  a  thousand  glassy  fragments  on  the  frozen 
land  at  the  base,  or  plunge  with  deafening  roar  into 
the  open  sea.  One  is  nearly  blinded  by  the  glare  and 
sparkle  that  is  reflected  from  the  dazzling  phantasma 
goria.  Cold,  piercing  fogs  appear  now  and  then,  and 
settle  along  the  cheerless  shore,  until  they  are  dis 
sipated  by  the  rough  winds  which  arise  and  blow  over 
these  measureless  wilds. 

As  the  sun  drops  below  the  horizon,  there  come 
weeks  of  ever  deepening  twilight,  merging  finally  into 
a  long  tedious  period  of  darkness  and  gloom.  Deso 
lation  and  loneliness  are  thus  intensely  increased. 
The  deep  abysses  seem  then  more  terrible,  the  ice- 
peaks  and  precipices  more  spectral  and  dangerous. 
At  times  the  aurora  borealis  bursts  out  upon  the  cold 
Arctic  sky,  and  its  rays  and  bars  of  blue,  red,  yellow, 
white,  and  purple,  sweeping  and  darting  hither  and 
thither,  lend  to  the  whole  scene  a  weird  and  enchant 
ing  effect.  The  never  setting  moon  may  be  watched 
through  all  its  various  phases  without  the  disturbance 
of  a  single  interval  of  daylight. 

These  excessively  cold  and  barren  regions  cannot 
fail  to  bring  forth  in  the  course  of  time  an  abnormal 
order  of  men  —  men  whose  whole  mode  of  life 
must  exhibit  many  glaring  contrasts  to  people  living 
approximately  near  the  North  American  tropical 
border. 

In  comparing  Pueblo  with  Eskimo,  one  notices  a 
striking  antithesis  not  only  in  clothing,  food,  and 


CONCLUSION  251 

shelter,  the  three  great  essentials,  but  even  in  the 
thousand  little  incidentals  of  common  life.  The 
Pueblo  is  first  of  all  an  agriculturist;  the  Eskimo,  a 
hunter  of  aquatic  animals.  Concerning  a  branch  of 
the  latter  people  Reclus  says :  "  The  walrus  and  the 
seal  render  the  same  services  to  the  Inoit  as  the  cocoa- 
tree  to  the  Polynesian,  and  the  kangaroo  and  xanthor- 
rhoea  (grass-tree)  to  the  Australian.  They  feed  and 
clothe  him;  he  applies  them  to  his  person  inside  and 
out ;  they  warm  him  and  light  him,  deck  his  hut  with 
out  and  within.  With  their  hides  he  constructs  his 
boats  and  skiffs  —  kayaks,  umiaks,  baidarkas;  with 
their  intestines  he  manufactures  his  overalls;  with 
their  bones  he  fashions  all  sorts  of  arms  and  utensils ; 
walrus-ivory  constitutes  his  principal  medium  of 
exchange."  l 

These  people  have  two  modes  of  locomotion, 
equally  unique.  The  first,  as  expressed  in  the  fore 
going  quotation,  is  by  means  of  boats,  of  which  they 
have  two  or  three  kinds.  On  some  of  their  frail 
crafts,  made  principally  of  bone  and  sealskin,  and 
capable  of  holding  only  a  single  person  at  a  time, 
they  dart  about  with  astonishing  alacrity,  among  the 
cakes  of  ice  of  those  dangerous  northern  seas,  and 
kill  their  game.  To  those  who  live  inland,  and  even 
to  those  who  use  the  boats  a  portion  of  the  year,  the 
motor  power  of  transportation  is  brute,  not  human, 
muscle.  "  The  dog,"  says  Reclus,  "  is  to  the  Esqui 
maux  what  the  reindeer  is  to  the  Lapp  and  the 
1  Primitive  Folk,  p.  16. 


252  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

Samoyede,  the  camel  to  the  Taureg,  and  the  horse 
to  the  Bedouin  and  the  Tartar  —  namely,  the  great 
means  of  locomotion,  the  inseparable  companion, 
and,  in  case  of  direst  necessity,  the  final  meal."  1 

It  is  noticeable  also  how  in  this  land  of  niggardly 
remuneration,  the  people  utilize  material  which  in 
more  favored  lands  is  considered  of  little  or  no  value. 
Nothing  goes  to  waste.  A  piece  of  driftwood  is 
worth  a  fortune  to  the  finder.  "  With  equal  industry 
and  skill,"  says  Hartwig,  "  the  Esquimaux  put  to  use 
almost  every  part  of  the  land  and  marine  animals 
which  they  chase.  Knives,  spear-points,  and  fish 
hooks  are  made  of  the  horns  and  bones  of  the  deer. 
The  ribs  of  the  whale  are  used  in  roofing  huts  or  in 
the  construction  of  sledges  where  drift  timber  is 
scarce.  Strong  cords  are  made  from  strips  of  seal 
skin  hide,  and  the  sinews  of  musk-oxen  and  deer 
furnish  bow-strings,  or  cord  to  make  nets  and  snares. 
In  default  of  driftwood,  the  bones  of  the  whale  are 
employed  for  the  construction  of  their  sledges,  in 
pieces  fitted  to  each  other  with  neatness  and  firmly 
sewed  together."  2  At  the  risk  of  tediousness  and 
repetition,  let  us  notice  also,  a  sentence  from  Ratzel, 
bearing  upon  the  various  uses  of  the  last-named  sub 
stance  :  "  Lance  and  weapon-heads,  hammers,  staves 
and  sceptres,  drills  a  foot  long  for  making  fire,  pipes, 
knife  -  sheaths,  various  small  articles  like  knife  - 
handles,  mouthpieces,  fish-hooks,  floats,  instruments 

'Primitive  Folk,  p.  13. 

'The  Polar  and  Tropical  Worlds,  p.  294. 


CONCLUSION  253 

for  smoothing  leather,  awls,  combs,  shuttles  for 
weaving  nets,  everything,  in  short,  is  made  of  bone."  1 

In  this  far  northern  region,  the  homes  are  mostly 
small,  dome-shaped  structures  built  of  snow,  and  are 
no  less  uniquely  constructed  than  are  the  clay-built 
ones  of  Pueblo  land.  There  is  the  same  disregard  of 
sanitary  conditions.  The  members  of  a  family  are 
simply  herded  in  a  small  room  without  doors  or 
windows,  with  decaying  meats  and  fish,  filthy  cloth 
ing,  and  offensive  wastes  on  every  side.  The  freez 
ing  air  of  the  North,  however,  like  the  dry  air  of 
the  Southwest,  comes  in  as  a  scavenger  and  life- 
protector. 

Again,  the  thick  furs  and  waterproof  pelts  worn 
by  these  Arctic  seafarers  naturally  differ  from  the 
cotton  fabrics  and  feather-cloth  of  the  Pueblos  no 
less  than  does  the  climate  of  the  one  region  differ 
from  that  of  the  other.  In  fact  contrasts  in  material 
things,  great  and  small,  are  observable  to  an  almost 
unlimited  extent,  and  each  contributes  its  share  in 
giving  to  the  whole  social  life  of  the  region  a  clearly 
observable  individuality. 

There  is  also  a  noticeable  difference  even  in  the 
physique  and  physiognomy  of  the  two  branches  of 
aborigines.  The  outward  appearance  of  the  peo 
ple  of  the  Southwest  has  already  been  noticed  at 
length;  and  while  there  are  more  or  less  differences 
between  the  sedentary  and  nomadic  groups  of  that 
territory,  it  is  perhaps  sufficient  to  add  that,  generally 

1  History  of  Mankind,  vol.  ii,  p.  120. 


254  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

speaking,  the  people  are  of  nearly  average  height, 
erect,  broad-chested,  have  a  deep-brown  skin,  well-cut 
features,  and  soft  black  hair.  The  Eskimo  is  thus 
described  by  Reclus :  "  The  big  trunk  on  short  legs, 
the  remarkably  small  extremities,  the  paw-like  fin 
gers,  the  flabby  flesh;  skull  essentially  dolichoceph- 
alous ;  head  large,  cheek-bones  prominent,  face  broad, 
full  and  chubby;  hair  black,  long,  harsh,  and  stiff; 
snub-nose.  A  traveler  pleasantly  remarks  that  a 
Roman-nosed  race  could  not  hold  their  own  in 
these  latitudes.  The  protuberance  furnished  with 
olfactory  apparatus  would  too  often  be  frozen  and 
fall  off;  a  flat  nose  is  less  exposed."  l 

Despite  the  great  array  of  contrasts  between  these 
regions,  there  are  equally  interesting  similarities. 
Fate  has  made  the  two  peoples  companions  in  adver 
sity.  They  have  both  been  thrown  upon  exceptionally 
hostile  lands.  Kept  evidently  by  stronger  hordes 
within  those  unattractive  corners  of  the  earth,  they 
have  become  accustomed  to  harsh  dealings,  and  have 
adapted  themselves  as  best  they  could  to  the  discord 
ant  conditions  that  nature  has  imposed  upon  them. 

Both  are  noted  alike  for  strength  and  endurance. 
An  Eskimo  will  carry  in  a  day  a  burden  weighing 
a  half-hundred  pounds  over  a  distance  of  forty  miles, 
and,  as  we  have  seen,  a  Seri  in  northern  Mexico 
will  chase  down  a  wild  deer  and  convey  it  on  his 
shoulders  several  miles  into  camp.  With  both,  the 
struggle  for  sustenance  is  of  first  consideration. 

1  Primitive  Folk,  pp.  u,  12. 


CONCLUSION  255 

Everything  available  for  nourishment  is  utilized. 
Scanty  as  is  the  population  in  each  region,  there  is 
always  deep  concern  lest  even  a  slight  increase  may 
jeopardize  life  by  reducing  the  food  supply  to  the 
starvation  limit.  With  reference  to  the  Pueblos  this 
applies  especially  to  prehistoric  times.  A  multiplicity 
of  births  is  regarded  with  apprehension.  Concerning 
the  inhabitants  of  the  far  North,  Reclus  says :  "  Mal- 
thusianism,  the  last  word  of  official  economics,  the 
last  word  also  of  declining  nationalities,  is  largely 
practised  by  these  primitive  races,  who  allow  each 
woman  but  two  or  three  living  children,  and  kill 
either  boy  or  girl  who  commits  the  crime  of  being 
born  in  addition.  The  mother  herself  fills  the  office 
of  executioner,  strangling  the  infant  or  exposing  it 
in  one  of  those  crevices  that  abound  between  the 
stationary  ice  on  shore  and  the  floating  ice  to 
seaward."  1 

The  sick  and  aged  are  often  similarly  treated. 
Reports  of  homicides  come  from  many  quarters. 
Realizing  that  the  lessening  of  the  number  of  mouths 
augments  the  stock  of  provisions  for  the  ones  remain 
ing,  these  unfortunates  very  frequently  offer  their 
own  lives.  If  they  fail  to  realize  that  they  are  becom 
ing  a  burden,  they  are  asked  to  shorten  their  days  for 
the  good  of  the  community,  and  their  consent  is  easily 
gained.  The  whole  matter  has  to  be  looked  upon 
largely  as  a  cool  business  proposition.  The  removal 
is  accomplished  by  various  methods  such  as  exposure, 

1  Primitive  Folk,  p.  34. 


THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 


neglect,  desertion,  strangulation,  blood-letting,  and 
starvation.  Among  the  cliff-dwellings  of  the  South 
west,  a  skull  with  a  piece  of  rock  imbedded  in  it  is 
very  frequently  found,  while  the  whole  corpse  is 
laid  away  with  care;  and  many  think  that  the  feeble 
and  aged  were  thus  disposed  of  by  their  own  kindred, 
not  as  a  matter  of  enmity,  but  of  necessity.  Certainly 
death  at  the  hands  of  the  members  of  the  family  on 
account  of  scarcity  of  sustenance  was  a  widespread 
custom  in  aboriginal  America.  In  many  extreme 
cases  victims  of  this  kind  of  homicide  were  even 
consumed  as  food. 

Homicide  occurs,  of  course,  for  many  other  rea 
sons.  Jealousy,  anger,  insanity,  and  a  score  of  other 
such  human  frailties  make  up  the  long  list.  The  coun 
try  of  the  Eskimo,  like  that  of  the  Pueblo,  abounds 
in  superstition,  and  many  are  the  victims  that  follow 
in  its  wake.  Witchcraft  and  sorcery  are  demons  that 
too  often  carry  away  the  aged  and  eccentric  in  both 
the  Arctic  and  the  southwestern  lands,  as  they  have 
done  even  in  modern  times  among  the  civilized.  Thus 
while  death  comes  as  a  result  of  many  agencies,  some 
familiar  and  some  not  familiar  to  civilized  man,  the 
predominating  cause  may  be  considered  as,  directly 
or  indirectly,  a  scarcity  of  food. 

So  these  two  interesting  branches  of  aboriginal 
Americans  have  thus  lived  on  in  their  widely  sepa 
rated  spheres,  each  "  baffled  and  beaten  and  blown 
about  "  by  the  unrelenting  storms  of  adversity,  but 
patiently  conforming  themselves  to  their  lot  and  get- 


CONCLUSION  257 

ting  the  most  that  they  could  out  of  their  inexorably 
harsh  surroundings. 

In  this  hurried  survey  of  Pueblo  life,  only  what 
seemed  the  most  striking  features  of  land  and  people 
have  been  noticed.  The  presentation  is  a  sketch,  not  a 
photograph.  Many  material  facts  have  been  merely 
touched  upon,  others  entirely  omitted.  There  has 
been,  first  of  all,  an  attempt  to  catch  a  likeness  of 
the  Pueblo  as  he  appeared  on  his  native  soil,  encom 
passed  by  those  powers  of  nature  which  were  part 
and  parcel  of  the  sphere  in  which  he  moved.  It  is 
perhaps  worth  while  to  give  a  passing  glance  at  a 
few  of  the  peculiarities  and  incongruities  that  contact 
with  a  European  civilization  has  evolved.  Many  an 
Indian  of  the  Southwest  has  become  a  sort  of  double 
personage.1  He  is  a  result  of  the  conditions  of  the 
stone  age  clashing  with  advanced  civilization.  There 
are  two  grades  of  culture  in  evidence  and  so  irrecon 
cilable  that  they  hardly  blend  at  any  point.  They 
are  strangely,  almost  ludicrously,  mismated.  The 
situation  is  like  that  of  a  child  of  the  kindergarten 
thrust  suddenly  into  the  high  school.  He  is  bewil 
dered.  There  is  a  series  of  gradations  that  he  has 
missed.  The  red  man  adopts  the  ways  of  his  superior 
without  understanding  the  purport  of  the  change. 
He  soon  forgets,  or  disregards,  inconsistencies.  Pres 
ent  needs  occupy  most  of  his  thoughts,  and  utility 
governs  most  of  his  actions.  In  his  amazement  at 

1Bandelier:  Investigations  in  the  Southwest,  part  i,  p.  222. 
Lummis:   The  Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  p.  44,  et  »eq. 
17 


258  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

what  the  white  man  says  and  does,  he  assumes  a  sort 
of  neutral,  or  perhaps  more  strictly  a  double,  position, 
and  appropriates  whatever  promises  to  him  individual 
gain.  He  goes  to  communion  one  day  and  to  snake- 
worshiping  ceremonies  the  next.  He  observes  one 
code  of  laws,  which  has  grown  out  of  the  simple  life 
of  his  people,  and  he  obeys  another  code  which  has 
fallen  upon  him  through  submission  to  civilized  man. 
He  gives  you,  without  serious  inconvenience,  a  sample 
of  his  own  native  language  in  one  breath,  and  a  scrap 
of  corrupted  Spanish  or  Anglo-Saxon  in  the  next. 
With  equal  affability  he  responds  to  his  original  In 
dian  name  or  to  the  one  given  him  at  baptism.  He 
lets  a  priest  perform  a  marriage  ceremony  for  him, 
and  as  an  evidence  of  liberality  of  spirit  he  marries 
in  his  own  way  a  half-hour  later.  He  appears  in  a 
strange  mixture  of  dress.  The  moccasins  may  be  of 
buckskin,  tanned,  cut,  and  sewed  by  his  own  hand, 
the  pantaloons  woven  in  some  English  or  American 
loom,  his  hair  tied  on  the  sides  of  his  head  with 
ribbons  from  France,  arranged  in  such  a  way  as  to 
hold  the  turkey  feathers  plucked  from  his  own  do 
mestic  fowl,  his  upper  garments  made  of  yucca  fibre 
ornamented  with  rabbit  fur,  both  of  which  materials 
are  native  products,  and  this  whole  costume  perhaps 
crowned  with  a  silk  hat  of  pre-revolutionary  times. 
He  grinds  his  grain  between  two  stones  as  did  his 
ancestors  centuries  ago,  and  he  eats  it  along  with  the 
flesh  of  goats,  which  the  white  man  has  put  into  his 
possession.  Side  by  side  stand  the  iron  kettle  from 


CONCLUSION  259 

the  civilized  man's  foundry  and  the  earthern  jar 
made  from  clay  gathered  in  the  vicinity  of  his  adobe 
house.  Lummis,  writing  of  the  Pueblos  of  Isleta  in 
particular,  says :  "  It  is  another  phase  of  social  contra 
diction,  this  human  hyphen  between  the  present  and 
the  utmost  past,  who  lights  a  pleasure  cigarette  with 
an  Ohio  match  and  his  medicine  smoke  from  the 
prehistoric  fire-drill;  who  hunts  with  the  Winchester 
and  executes  with  the  obsidian-tipped  arrow;  who 
goes  to  mass  in  the  great  adobe  church  his  patient 
fathers  builded  for  a  new  faith,  and  thence  to  his 
feathered  prayer-sticks  in  a  mountain  cave."  1  Into 
the  old  legends  and  myths  in  many  pueblos,  modifica 
tions  have  been  admitted  to  suit  new  material  and  new 
ideas,  imported  from  civilization.  They  may  be  lik 
ened  to  the  windows  and  doors  that  have  found  their 
way  into  the  adobe  walls  of  the  Pueblo  homes.  Steel 
arrow-heads,  cut  from  articles  manufactured  by  the 
whites,  have  supplanted  to  a  great  extent  the  stone 
ones.  Even  the  dances  and  other  ceremonials,  the 
various  articles  of  domestic  use,  and  most  of  the 
adobe  villages  themselves,  are  known  by  imported 
names  or  perhaps  by  a  double  terminology. 

Whatever  may  be  the  faults  or  foibles  of  the 
Pueblo,  or  of  the  Indian  in  general,  whatever  his 
aspirations,  his  incongruities,  his  strength,  or  his 
weakness,  as  a  type  of  man  he  is  destined  to  disap 
pear  under  the  irresistible  influences  of  a  mightier 
race.  His  social  life  becomes  enfeebled  by  attempts 

*The  Land  of  Poco  Tiempo,  pp.  44,  45. 


2<5o  THE    AMERICAN    INDIAN 

to  put  into  practice  half -understood  conventionalities 
borrowed  from  the  new-comer.  His  tribe  is  decimated 
through  changes  in  ways  of  living.  His  kindred  are 
swept  off  without  mercy  by  the  spread  of  new  dis 
eases.  Even  if  this  were  not  so,  even  if  he  took 
kindly  to  his  new  mode  of  living  and  suffered  no 
hardship  therefrom,  his  disappearance  as  a  represen 
tative  of  a  distinct  race  would  be  no  less  certain.  It  is 
not  a  question  of  whether  the  remnants  of  his  people, 
cooped  up  as  they  are  on  the  reservations,  are  in 
creasing  or  decreasing.  It  is  simply  the  obvious  fact 
that  his  whole  life  becomes  transformed,  if  not  degen 
erated,  whenever  it  touches  the  life  of  the  white  man. 
Forgetting  for  a  moment  the  likelihood  of  his  becom 
ing  a  vagabond  or  a  monster,  under  the  influence  of 
cajolery,  whiskey,  bribery,  and  a  score  of  other  in 
strumentalities  put  to  use  by  the  Caucasian  conqueror, 
we  find  him  losing  his  individuality  under  circum 
stances  even  far  more  favorable.  The  Indian  riding 
on  a  mowing-machine  or  selling  goods  behind  a  coun 
ter  is  an  Indian  no  longer.  His  personality  is  gone; 
his  racial  characteristics  are  smothered,  his  tendencies, 
good  and  bad,  are  directed  into  new  and  artificial 
channels.  He  is  simply  an  imitator,  a  servitor_pf 
another  race.  As  a  hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of 
water,  he  may  incite  our  sympathy  and  attract  the 
philanthropic  or  economic  side  of  our  nature,  but  he 
does  not  gain  our  admiration.  To  the  ethnologist  he 
becomes  a  thing  of  but  little  value.  In  certain  respects, 
some  real  benefits  may  come  to  him  as  a  result  of  the 


CONCLUSION  261 

changed  condition;  but  we  instinctively  feel  that  this 
is  not  the  man  who  chased  Cortez  over  the  causeway 
out  of  Mexico  City  on  the  "  dismal  night,"  or  who 
defended  with  speech  and  war-club  his  land  and  kin 
dred  on  the  shores  of  the  great  northern  lakes. 

The  Indian  will  live,  but  not  as  an  active,  vital 
force.  His  existence  will  come  to  be  a  memory  in 
place  of  a  reality.  Tradition  will  keep  alive  the  sad 
story  of  his  career.  His  vicissitudes  will  lend  a 
strange  wild  charm  to  song  and  romance  in  the  far- 
distant  ages  to  come.  Historian  and  ethnologist  will 
turn  backward  to  gather  up  the  fragments  of  that 
aboriginal  life,  so  interesting,  so  fluctuating,  so  mis 
understood,  so  misrepresented. 

He  will  live,  but  perhaps  most  of  all  through  the 
names  that  cling  to  the  patches  of  the  country  he 
once  called  his  own.  Driven  westward  from  river  to 
river,  from  mountain  to  mountain,  from  fertile  valley 
to  sterile  plain,  with  the  thick  forests  that  once  teemed 
with  game  for  his  sustenance  disappearing  behind  him 
under  the  stroke  of  the  woodman's  ax,  he  still  leaves, 
as  a  rich  heritage  to  his  civilized  successor,  not  only 
the  land  so  dear  to  him,  but,  with  it,  the  becoming 
epithets  he  has  so  aptly  applied  to  the  thousands  of 
inanimate  objects  he  so  loved  and  venerated.  The 
names  are  fraught  with  deepest  meaning.  They  are 
valuable  helpmates  in  our  search  for  historical  and 
geographical  data.  They  bring  up  old  associations. 
They  bear  witness  to  certain  characteristics  of  the 
objects  themselves,  We  feel  in  them  a  sense  of  har- 


262  THE   AMERICAN    INDIAN 

mony.  There  is  no  endless  and  senseless  repetition  of 
Brownvilles  and  Smithtowns.  From  the  word,  Miss 
issippi,  "  father  of  waters,"  down  to  the  aboriginal 
name  of  the  sparkling  rivulet  that  winds  about  the 
humble  cabin  of  the  frontiersman,  attention  is  given 
to  fitness  of  terminology.  Take  at  random  any  section 
of  our  country,  large  or  small,  and  that  characteristic 
is  always  in  evidence.  How  significant,  for  instance, 
are  the  meanings  of  the  words  attached  to  the  score 
of  larger  rivers  that  bear  Indian  names,  found 
between  the  Penobscot  and  the  Pascagoula  —  those 
noble  historic  rivers  flowing  outward  through  the 
narrow  coast  from  the  foot  of  the  Appalachian 
Mountain  system  into  the  Atlantic  and  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  It  is  worth  noticing  that  four  out  of  the  five 
Great  Lakes  are  known  by  appellations  bestowed  upon 
them  by  tribes  living  along  their  shores.  In  spite  of 
the  tendency  of  the  white  man  to  affix  his  own  name 
or  the  names  of  his  idols  to  the  political  divisions  of 
the  country,  it  is  a  striking  fact  that  more  than  half 
of  the  states  he  has  created,  to  say  nothing  of  thou 
sands  of  counties  and  townships,  bear  aboriginal 
names;  and  these  have  become  so  thoroughly  incor 
porated  into  the  poems,  novels,  histories,  and  public 
documents  of  the  Republic  that  they  can  never  be 
eradicated.  Those  musical  and  euphonious  epithets 
charm  or  sadden  us  with  their  descriptive  sugges 
tions,  quaint  imagery,  and  heart-touching  associations. 
Massachusetts  discloses  "blue  hills";  Connecticut, 
"long  river";  Tennessee,  "river  of  the  big  bend"; 


CONCLUSION  263 

Missouri,  "  muddy  river  " ;  Kansas,  "  smoky  water  " ; 
Wyoming,  "  great  plains  " ;  and  Utah,  "  mountain 
home."  Dakota  tells  of  "  a  confederacy,"  Ken 
tucky,  of  "  a  dark  and  bloody  ground,"  and  so  on 
down  the  list.  Through  their  nomenclature,  a  thou 
sand  natural  objects  of  local  interest  —  a  thousand 
unassuming  hills,  glens,  ravines,  islands,  brooks,  and 
springs  —  tell  to  men  of  alien  blood  and  culture 
stories  of  heroic  endurance,  of  successful  or  ill- 
starred  enterprises,  of  desperate  encounters,  of  suf 
fering,  starvation,  and  death.-*The  sheltered  nooks 
in  which  were  held  the  councils  of  the  tribes,  the 
plots  of  ground  upon  which  were  gathered  the  war 
riors  of  the  dance,  the  secluded  retreats  which  be 
came  the  repositories  of  the  dead  are  to-day  overrun 
by  the  bleating  sheep  and  bellowing  cattle  of  the 
white  man, —  all  as  if  in  mockery  of  the  native  elo 
quence,  the  dramatic  ceremonials,  and  the  heart-rend 
ing  lamentations  of  the  departed  people.  Yet  the 
names  so  long  ago  given  to  those  beloved  and  sacred 
nooks  and  corners  of  our  country  remain,  as  if  to 
remind  future  generations  of  the  sad  unavoidable 
mutations  of  time  and  the  insecurity  of  human  homes 
and  possessions. 


PRINCIPAL  AUTHORS  CITED 


Bancroft,  George  ....  History  of  the  United  States. 

Bancroft,    H.    H Native  Races. 

Bandelier,   A.    F Southwestern    Historical    Contri 
butions. 

Delight  Makers. 
Baxter,    Sylvester      .    .    .  American  Antiquarian,  vol.  xvii. 

Harper's  Magazine,  vol.  Ixv. 

Bluntschli,  J.   C Theory  of  the  State. 

Brinton,  D.  G American  Anthropologist,  vol.  vii. 

American  Race. 

Eleventh  Census  Report — Indians. 

Essays  of  an  Americanist. 

Iconographic  Encyclopedia. 

Myths  of  the  New  World. 

Races  and  Peoples. 

Religions  of  Primitive  People. 

Buckle,   H.  T History  of  Civilization  in   E  n  g - 

land. 

Brooks,    E.    S Story  of  the  American  Indian. 

Bryce,    James American  Commonwealth. 

Clarke,  J.  Freeman  .    .    .  Ten  Great  Religions. 
Colden,    Cadwallader  .    .  History  of  the  Five   Indian   Na 
tions. 
Comte,    Auguste  ....   Positive  Philosophy. 

Cranch,    C.    P Galaxy,  vol.  xvi. 

Gushing,  F.  H Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bu 
reau  of  Ethnology. 
Davidson,   Thomas  .    .    .  History  of  Education. 

Deniker,  J Races  of  Man. 

Donaldson,  Thomas     .    .  Census  Bulletin,  1890  —  Pueblo 

Indians. 

Dorsey,  G.  A Eleventh   Annual    Report   of   the 

Bureau  of  Ethnology. 

Drake,  F.  S Indian  History  for  Young  Folks. 

Draper,   J.   W Civil  War  in  America. 

Intellectual  Development  of  Eu 
rope. 
Drummond,  Henry  .    .    .  Ascent  of  Man. 

265 


266        PRINCIPAL  AUTHORS  CITED 


Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo     Nature,  Addresses,  and  Lectures. 
Farrand,    L  .......   Basis  of  American  History. 

Fewkes,  J.  Walter  .    .    .  American    Anthropologist,    n.  s., 

vol.  viii. 
Nineteenth  Annual  Report  of  the 

Bureau  of  Ethnology. 
Smithsonian   Report,   1895. 
Fiske,    John    ......  Discovery  of  America. 

Foster,   J.    W  ......   Mississippi  Valley. 

Guyot,   Arnold  .....   Earth  and  Man. 

Hartwig,    G  .......   Polar  and  Tropical  Worlds. 

Hewett,   E.    L  ......  American    Anthropologist,    n.   s., 

vol.  vii. 
Hodge,   F.   W  ......  American    Anthropologist,    vols. 

vi.  and  ix. 
Hollister,  U.  S  ......   Navajo  and  His  Blanket. 

Holmes,  W.  H  .......  Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bu 

reau  of  Ethnology. 
Hough,  Walter  .....  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  x. 

Hubbard,    G.    G  .....   Smithsonian  Report,  1895. 

James,   George   Wharton  Indian  Basketry. 
Laurie,  S.  S  .......   Pre-Christian   Education. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.  .    .    .   Song  of  Hiawatha. 

Lubbock,  John  .....   Origin  of  Civilization  and  Primi 

tive  Condition  of  Man. 
Prehistoric  Times. 
Lummis,  C.  F  ......   Land  of  Poco  Tiempo. 

<-Man  Who  Married 


Some  Strange  Corners    of    Our 

Country. 
Mallery,  Garrick   ....   Fourth  Annual  Report  of  the  Bu 

reau  of  Ethnology. 
Mason,   O.   T  ......   Woman's  Share  in  Primitive  Cul 

ture. 
Matthews,  Washington  .   Third  Annual  Report  of  the  Bu 

reau  of  Ethnology. 
McGee,  W  J   ......  American  Anthropologist,  vol.  viii. 

Seventeenth    Annual    Report    of 

the  Bureau  of  Ethnology. 
McMaster,  J.   B  .....   History    of   the    People   of   the 

United  States. 

Mindeleff,   Cosmos    .    .    .    Science,  vol.  vii. 
Montesquieu,  Charles  de 

Secondat  .......   Spirit  of  Laws. 


PRINCIPAL  AUTHORS  CITED        267 

Montgomery,  D.   H.    .    .   Student's  American  History. 

Mooney,    James    ....   Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the 

Bureau  of  Ethnology. 

Moran,    Peter Census  Bulletin,  1890  —  Pueblo 

Indians. 

Morgan,  Lewis  H.   .    .    .  Ancient  Society. 

Houses  and  House  Life. 

Parkman,    Francis    .    .    .    Conspiracy  of  Pontiac. 

Pedagogical  Seminar,  January,  1898. 

Peet,  S.  D American  Antiquarian,  vol.  xvi. 

Cliff  Dwellers  and  Pueblos. 

Poore,  H.  R Eleventh   Census   Report  —  In 
dians. 

Powell,   J.   W First  Annual  Report  of  the  Bu 
reau  of  Ethnology. 
Shaler's  United  States  History  of 
America. 

Prescott,  W.   H Conquest  of  Mexico. 

Proctor,  Edna  Dean   .    .  Song  of  the  Ancient  People. 

Ratzel,  F .   History  of  Mankind. 

Reclus,    Elie Primitive  Folk. 

Robinson,   Louis    ....   Wild  Traits  of  Tame  Animals. 

Samson,  G.  W Elements  of  Art  Criticism. 

Scott,  Julian Eleventh   Census   Report — In 
dians. 

Scudder,  H.  E.  ......   School  History  of  the    United 

States. 

Shaler,  N.  S Nature  and  Man  in  America. 

North   American   Review,   vol. 

clxii. 
Story  of  Our  Continent. 

Spencer,  F.  C Education  of  the  Pueblo  Child. 

Spencer,  Herbert  ....   First  Principles. 

Principles  of  Sociology. 

Starr,    Frederick    ....   First  Steps  in  Human  Progress. 

American  Indians. 

Stevenson,   Matilda   C.    .   Eleventh   Annual   Report   of   the 

Bureau  of  Ethnology. 

Tacitus,  C.  Cornelius  .    .   Germania. 

Toqueville,  Alexis  de  .    .   Democracy  in  America. 

Tylor,  E.  B Anthropology. 

Wallace,  A.  R Natural   Selection  and  Tropical 

Nature. 


268        PRINCIPAL  AUTHORS  CITED 


Weismann,  August  .  .  .  Effect  of  External  Influences 

upon  Development. 

Winship,  S.  P Fourteenth  Annual  Report  of  the 

Bureau  of  Ethnology. 

Winsor,  Justin Narrative  and  Critical  History  of 

America. 


INDEX 


•  Aborigines,  theories  regarding  the  origin  of,  22,  23;  antiq 
uity  of,  23;  of  one  race  only,  23,  24;  strictly  American, 
24,  25;  number  of,  39;  noted,  44,  45;  culture  classification 
of,  36-50;  clothing  of,  103-106;  as  warriors,  234-236,  240, 
241;  adoption  among,  241,  242;  industrial  classification  of, 
242-244;  gradual  extinction  of,  259-261;  will  be  remem 
bered,  261-263. 

Agriculture  among  aborigines,  87,  95-100,  127,  128,  208,  209. 

Algonkins,  location  and  culture  of,  28,  41. 

Animals,  affected  by  environment,  4-7;  lack  of  domestic,  38, 
42,  46;  of  Southwest,  57. 

Antelope  altar,  214-217. 

Antelope  society,  costume  and  functions  of,  222-224. 
/  Antiquity  of  natives,  23. 

Arawaks.   See  Caribs. 

Architecture,  affected  by  environment,  68-86;  of  Eskimos, 

253. 

Arrows,  178. 

Arts,  graphic,  154-156;  pottery,  157-162;  basketry,  162-168; 
fabrics,  168-175;  wood-craft,  175,  176;  bone  implements, 
176,  252,  253;  stone  industry,  176-178. 

Athapascans,  location  and  culture  of,  49. 

Aztecs,  culture  of,  36-39;  education  among,  138,  139;  com 
pared  with  Pueblos,  138-140. 


B 

Barbaric  Indians,  location  and  culture  of,  39-48. 
Barriers  to  animal  migration,  6.  * 

Basketry,  162-168. 

Bison,  importance  of,  to  natives,  244,  245. 
Blanket-making,  168-175. 
,-    Blood  revenge,  126,  127. 

Bone,  use  of,  among  Pueblos,  176;  among  Eskimos,  252,  253. 

269 


2/o  INDEX 


Cannibalism,  39  (note),  48. 

Canoes,  28,  34. 

Cardinal  points.    See  Mystic  Numbers. 

Caribs  and  Arawaks,  28. 

Castles  of  Europe,  71. 

Cave-dwellings.   See  Cliff-dwellings. 

Civilizations,  earlier,  influenced  by  environment,  17,  18. 

Civil  War,  affected  by  environmental  conditions,  14. 

Classification  of  aborigines,  culture,  36-52;  industrial,  242- 

244. 

Cliff-dwellings,   72-76. 
'  Climate,  colder  compared  with  warmer,  9,  10;  effect  of,  upon 

nature  of  man,   11-13. 
Clothing,  of  aborigines  in  general,  103,  104;  of  Pueblos,  104, 

105. 

Colors,  symbolism  of,  167,  168,  202. 
Communism,  107-111,  121. 
Co-operation,  reasons  for,  109-111,  119-122. 
Corn.    See  Maize. 
Corn-dance,  231. 

Costumes  of  Antelope  and  Snake  societies,  222. 
Cross,  aboriginal,   199,  200. 

D 

Dakotas.    See  Sioux. 

Dances,  importance  of,  203,  204;  symbolism  of,  204;  music 

for,  204,  205;  frequency  and  kinds  of,  205,  230,  231. 
Descent  in  female  line,  122-128. 
Disadvantages  of  barbaric  natives,  42-44. 
'  Diseases  among  aborigines,  144. 
'  Distribution  of  aboriginal  stocks  and  tribes,  25-50. 
Domestic  animals,  lack  of,  38,  42,  46. 
Dual  nature  of  Pueblos,  257-259. 
Dwellings,  in  unfavorable  localities,  reasons  for,  66-68;  cave 

and  cliff,  66-76. 


Education:  cultivation,  of  observation,  130,  131;  of  imitation, 
131,  132;  of  militarism,  132;  of  physical  endurance,  132, 
133,  144,  I45»  254I  Pueblo  school  houses,  133-136;  manner 
of  imparting  knowledge,  136-138;  themes,  134-139;  figures 
of  speech,  136;  religious  instruction,  136,  137;  instruction 


INDEX  271 


through  societies,  138;  instruction  among  Aztecs,  138, 
139;  sense-training,  144,  145;  morals,  145,  150;  habits  of 
industry,  145,  146;  respect  for  authority,  147-150;  miscel 
laneous  training,  150-152;  memory  training,  151. 

England.    See  Japan. 

Environment,  relation  of  vegetable  kingdom  to,  1-4;  animal 
kingdom  affected  by,  4-7;  man  in  relation  to,  7-18;  effect 
of,  on  man  in  cooler  climates,  9;  in  warmer  climates,  9, 
10;  Hindus  affected  by,  12;  relation  of  New  England  in 
dustries  to,  13,  14;  Hellas,  Sparta,  Rome,  Persia,  affected 
by,  17,  18;  expansion  and  contraction  of  American  tribes 
through,  50,  51;  local  objects  relating  to,  51. 

Eskimos,  habitat  and  cultute  of,  28,  50,  249,  250;  compared 
with  Pueblos,  248-251,  253-257;  means  of  locomotion 
among,  251,  252;  personal  appearance  of,  254;  endurance 
of,  254. 

Extinction  of  Indians,  259-261. 

F 

Family,  aboriginal,  124,  125. 

Fighting,  Indian  method  of,  234-237;  imitated  by  whites, 
237-239;  an  evolution,  240. 

Fisheries,  on  Great  Lakes,  88;  along  Canadian  Pacific,  88-90; 
on  Atlantic  seaboard,  93,  94. 

Florida,  physical  features  of,  31. 

Food,  affected  by  environment,  2-4;  determines  habitat  of 
animals,  6;  of  aborigines  generally,  87;  of  tribes  east  of 
Mississippi,  87,  88;  of  Pacific  coast,  88-93;  of  Atlantic 
coast,  93,  94;  importance  of  maize  as,  93,  95,  96;  of  Pueb 
los,  96-103. 

Four.    See  Mystic  Numbers. 

G 

Gens,  123-125. 

Glazing,  lack  of,  on  aboriginal  pottery,  151. 

Governmental  institutions  of  primitive  society,  122-128. 

Grain-grinding,   100,   101. 

Grand  Canon  of  the  Colorado,  58. 

Graphic  arts,  154-156. 

H 

Habitat,  of  Pueblos,  53-65,  206-208;  affected  by  environment, 
66-68;  of  Mokis,  206-208;  of  Eskimos,  249,  250. 


272  INDEX 


Hellas.    See  Environment. 
Herdsmen,  243. 
Hindus.    See  Environment. 
Homicide,  256. 
Hospitality,  111-120. 

Hunting,  among  aborigines,  88;  methods  of,  121;  as  an  in 
dustrial  stage  of  human  progress,  242,  243. 
Hurons,  location  of,  71,  72. 


Indian  names,  permanency  of,  261-263. 
Indians,  noted.    See  Aborigines. 
Iroquois,  location  and  culture  of,  32,  33,  42. 
Irrigation,  97-100;  requires  co-operation,  120,  121. 
Isolation,  advantages  of,  42,  43,  66,  67,  107. 

J 
Japan,  compared  with  England,  15. 

K 
Kisi,  220,  221. 

u 

Literature  of  Pueblos,  137,  138. 

M 

Maize,  affected  by  environment,  3;  uses  and  importance  of, 

38,  95-97- 

Man,  in  relation  to  his  surroundings,  7-18. 
Marriage,  primitive,   124-126. 
Maskoki,  location  of,  28. 
Menomenees,  derivation  of  name,  95. 
Militarism.   See  Fighting. 
Mokis,  culture  of,  206,  208;  habitat  of,  206-208;  villages  of, 

206,  207;  indigenous  plants  of,  209-211;  religious  nature 

of,  211. 

Morals  of  Pueblos,  145. 

Morgan's  ethnic  periods  and  social  divisions,  36-46,  122,  123. 
Mound-builders,  24. 


INDEX 


273 


Mountains,  effect  of,  upon  the  distribution  of  races,  16,  17, 

25-28,  30;  of  Southwest,  53,  54. 
Music,  primitive,  204,  205. 
Mystic  numbers,  of  civilization,  193-195;  of  primitive  society, 

195-202. 
Myths,  aboriginal,  183-189. 

N 

Natural  barriers  to  migration,  6,  7. 

Natural  highways  and  open  country,  32,  33,  35,  36. 

Nature  worship,   121,   122,   183-188. 

Navahos,  lack  of  concentration  among,  35;  weaving  by,  168- 

175- 

New  England,  environmental  influences  in,  13,  14. 
Northwestern  tribes,  habitat  of,  33,  34. 


Organization  of  war-parties.   See  Fighting. 
,     Origin  of  Indians.    See  Aborigines. 
Ornamentation  in  dress,  105,  106. 


Palm-tree,  effect  of,  on  tribal  life,  245-248. 
Patience  of  Pueblos,  146,  147. 
Persians.    See  Environment. 
Petrified  forest,  59,  60. 
Phratry,  122,  123. 
,    Physical    endurance    of   aborigines    generally,    132,    133;    of 

Pueblos,  142-144;  of  Eskimos,  254. 
Picture-writing,  153-156. 

Plains,  as  an  environmental  influence,  29,  30. 
Plant  life  in  Pueblo  country,  56. 
Plants,  affected  by  environment,  1-4;  utilization  of,  among 

Mokis,  208-211. 
Poetry,  primitive,  231-233. 
Potter's  wheel,  lack  of,  151. 
Pottery-making,  157-162. 

Property  of  Pueblo  women,  125;  in  common,  127,  128. 
Protective  coloration,  241. 


274  INDEX 


Pueblos,  habitat  of,  53-65;  names  of  villages  of,  63;  linguistic 
stocks  of,  63-65;  architecture  of,  72-86;  compared  with 
Aztecs,  138-140;  physical  characteristics  of,  141-144;  in 
tellectual  achievements  of,  150,  151;  compared  with  Eski 
mos,  248-251;  duality  among,  257-259;  decadence  of,  259- 
261. 

R 

Rainfall,  scarcity  of,  in  Southwest,  208,  209,  231. 
Religion,  universality  of,   179;  primitive   environmental  in 
fluences  on,  180-189;  relation  of  symbolism  to,  189-202. 
Rhythm,  205,  232. 
Rice.    See  Wild  Rice. 
Rome,  ancient.    See  Environment. 


Sand  storms  of  the  Southwest,  57,  58. 
Savage  aborigines,  location  and  culture  of,  49,  50. 
Sea-coasts,  as  an  environmental  influence,  14,  15. 
Semi-civilized  aborigines,  location  and  culture  of,  36-39. 
Seminoles,  peculiar  habitat  of,  31. 
Sense  perception  of  aborigines,  144,  145. 
Seris,  location  and  character  of,  34,  35;  food  of,  90-93;  endur 
ance  of,  143,  144. 
Seven.   See  Mystic  Numbers. 
Sioux,  location  and  character  of,  41. 
Snake-dance,  211-229. 

Snake-society,  costume  and  functions  of,  222-226. 
Snake-washing,  219,  220. 
Snake-worship,  extent  of,  188. 
Social  organizations  of  aborigines,  36-46,  126. 
South  American  stocks,  distribution  of,  27-29. 
Southwest,  physical  features  of,  53-61. 
Sparta.    See  Environment. 
Stone  implements,  176-178. 
Sun-race,  217,  218. 
Sun-worship,  185,  186. 
Superstition,  121,  147,  148. 
Symbolism,  189-202. 

T 

Tattooing,  105,  106. 

Three.   See  Mystic  Numbers. 

Threshing  wheat,  method  of,  101,  102, 


INDEX  275 


Thunder-bird,  186-188. 
Travel  under  primitive  conditions,  112. 
Tribes,  distribution  of,  26-36. 
Truth-telling  among  Pueblos,  150. 

U 
Uto-Aztecan  stock,  distribution  of,  26,  27. 


Villages,  Pueblo,  names  and  distribution  of,  62,  63.  76-86. 

W 

Warfare.   See  Fighting. 

Weaving.   See  Navahos. 

Wild  rice,  95. 

Women,   Pueblo,  physique,  duties,  and   social  position  of 

125,  126,  141,  143,  146,  162,  163,  165,  167. 
Wood-craft,  175,  176. 
Written  language,  symbolic,  190. 

Z 
Zunis,  murder  of  Estevan  by,  117,  118;  epic  of,  137. 


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